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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

Girx  OF 


Kenneth  Macgowan 


ill. 


No.  LVL 
?ENCH*S    STANDARD    DRAMA. 


THE  CRITIC: 


!!Hi!l!i!l 


OB. 


TRAGEDY    REHEARSED. 


%  §ramafic  ^Im, 


IN  TWO  ACTS. 


BY  EICHARD  BEINSLEY  SHEEIDAN. 

_ || 

liBjllilTH  THE   STAGE  BUSINESS,  CAST  OF  CHARAC- 
iiiiilf  ;!■':  TERS,  OOSTUMES,  RELATIVE  POSITIONS,  ETC. 

illlii 
lilii 


PRICE,  25  CENTS. 


New  York: 
•AMUEL  FRENCH 
:;         Publisher 
;15  West  45th  Street 


London : 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Ltd. 

26  Southampton  Street 

Strand 


BILLETED. 

A  comedy  In  3  acts,  by  F.  Tennison  Jesse  and  H.  Harwood.  4  males, 
5  females.  One  easy  interior  scene.  A  charming  comedy,  constructed 
with  uncommon  skill,  and  abounds  with  clever  lines.  Margaret  Anglin's 
big  success.  Amateurs  will  find  this  comedy  easy  to  produce  and  popular 
with  all  audiences.  Price,  60  Cents. 

NOTHING  BUT  THE  TRUTH. 

A  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  James  Montgomery.  5  males,  6  females.  Cos= 
tumes,  modern.     Two  interior  scenes.     Plays  2J4  hours. 

Is  it  possible  to  tell  the  absolute  truth — even  for  twenty-four  hours?  It  is— 
at  least  Bob  Bennett,  the  hero  of  "Nothing  But  the  Truth,"  accomplished  the 
<eat.  The  bet  he  made  with  his  business  partners,  and  the  trouble  he  got  into— 
with  his  partners,  his  friends,  and  his  fiancee — this  is  the  subject  of  William 
Collier's  tremendous  comedy  hit.  "Nothing  But  the  Truth"  can  be  whole-heartedly 
recommended  as  one  of  the  most  sprightly,  amusing  and  popular  comedies  that 
this  country  can  boast.  Price,  60  Cents. 

IN  WALKED  JIMMY. 

A  comedy  in  4  acts,  by  Minnie  Z.  Jaffa.  10  males,  3  females  (although 
any  number  of  males  and  females  may  be  used  as  clerks,  etc.)  Two 
interior  scenes.  Costumes,  modern.  Plays  SJ^  hours.  The  thing  into 
•vhich  Jimmy  walked  was  a  broken-down  shoe  factory,  when  the  clerks 
had  all  been  fired,  and  when  the  proprietor  was  in  serious  contemplation 
>f  suicide.  i 

Jimmy,  nothing  else  but  plain  Jimmy,  would  have  been  a  mysterious  fLgurt] 
.lad  it  not  been  for  his  matter-of-fact  manner,  his  smile  and  his  everlastingl 
humanness.  He  put  the  shoe  business  on  its  feet,  won  the  heart  of  the  girl 
.-lerk,  saved  her  erring  brother  from  jail,  escaped  that  place  as  a  permanent 
boarding    house    himself,    and    foiled    the    villain. 

Clean,  wholesome  comedy  with  just  a  touch  of  human  nature,  just  a  dash  ofj 
rxcitement  and  more  than  a  little  bit  of  true  philosophy  make  "In  Walked  Jimmy" 
me  of  the  most  delightful  of  plays.  Jimmy  is  full  of  the  religion  of  life,  the 
'eligion  of  happiness  and  the  religion  of  helpfulness,  and  he  so  permeates  the 
atmosphere  with  his  "religion"  that  everyone  is  happy.  The  spirit  of  optimism, 
good  cheer,  and  hearty  laughter  dominates  the  play.  Ther»»  is  not  adull  moment 
in   any  of  the  four  acts.    We   strongly   recommend  it.  Price,  60  Cents. 

MARTHA  BY-THE-DAY. 

An  optimistic  comedy  in  three  acts,  by  Julie  M.  Lippmann,  author  of 
the  "Martha"  stories.  5  males,  5  females.  Three  interior  scenes.  Cos- 
tumes modern.    Plays  2%  hours. 

It  is  altogether  a  gentle  thing,  this  play.  It  is  full  of  quaint  humor,  old- 
fashioned,  homely  sentiment,  the  kind  that  people  who  see  the  play  will  recall 
and    chuckle   over   tomorrow   and   the   next   day.  ' 

Miss  Lippmann  has  herselC  adapted  her  very  successful  book  for  stage  service, 
and  in  doing  this  has  selected  from  her  novel  the  most  telling  incidents,  infectious 
comedy  and  homely  sentiment  for  the  play,  and  the  result  is  thoroughly  delightful. 

Price,  60  Cents.! 

(Tbe  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 

New  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogfue  Mailed  Free  on  Request 


FRENCH'S    STANDARD     DRAMA 
No    LVl. 


THE     C  R  1  T  1  C 


«». 


A  TRAGEDY  REHEARSED 


'31  Elramatlc  }pu« 


IN       f   W  0       ACT 


SY  RIOIARD  BRINSLEY  SHERIDAN 


New  York : 
SAMUEL  FRENCH 

Publisher   . 
25  West  45th  Street 


London : 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Ltd 

26  Southampton  Street 

Strand 


OAST  OF  CHARACTERS. 

Drury  Lam.  1X19.  Arch,  PkiL,  1847  Park,  1841 

{>OT^i4 Mr.  Dodd.  Mr.  C.  Smith.  Mr.  Chanfttw 

Snter •'    Palmer.  "    4.  C.  Dunn.  "    Stark 

Sir  Fretfiil  PUigiarf    "    Parson*.  "    Thayer.  "    Baiii 

Prompter^ "    Phillimore.  *•    Jervis.  "    Jouea. 

p^ff "    King.  "    G.  Barrett.  "    G.  Barrett 

Idri.  iJangU Mr».  Hopkini.  Mrs.  Roger*.  Mibs  Gordon 

Characters  of  the   Tragedy. 

Lfid  Burltigh. Mr.  Moody.  Mr.  Jervis.  Mr.  Gallot 

Qav.  of  Tilbury  Fort    "     Wrighieo.  "    Greenp.  "     Arderaon. 

EarlofLticeBter....    '     F  irren  "    Wright  "     A.  Andrewi 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh..     "     Burton.  **     Eberle.  '     McDouall 

Sir  Christ'r  Hatton.    •'     Waldroa  **    Rae.  "     Matthew« 

Matter  of  the  Hone    "    Ksnny.  "    Warden.  "    Milot. 

Bet/eater "    Wright  "     Burke.  "    Spragu*. 

Whi$kerandoB "     Bannister.  "     Burton.  "     Fislier. 

Sentinel "     Heath.  "     Stewart  "     Heath. 

Pir$t  Niece Miss  Collet  Mrs  Dunn.  Miss  Flynn. 

SeeondKite* "     Kerby.  ■     Riba*.  Mrs.  Burro»> 

Vonfidant Mr*.  Bradehaw.  "     Hughes  '     Dyolt 

Tilburina Miss  Pope.  "     Greene.  '•     Vernon. 


COSTUMES. 

DANGLE. — Blue  coat,  white  waistcoat,  black  pantaloons,  black  silk  stockin|«  &B 

pumps 
BNEEB.— Blue  coat,    waistcoat,    a.  -;  breeches,    ditto  silk   stockings.    puu>;)*    aiv 

latchets,  and  cocked  hat. 
SIR  FRETFUL  PLAGIARY Brown  coat,  with  steel  buttons,  enibroidend  katu 

woist^at,  brown  breeches,  white  s.lk  stockings,  thoes.  buckles,  powdered  wig  anc 

tail,  Ihrce-coruered  hat,  lace  fril!   .-ufflcs,  and  gloves. 
ptipF. — Blue  coat,  white  wautcj^t,  black  pantaloons,  black  silk  stockings,  |  -i  xip* 

gloves,  and  cocked  hat. 

CharactcTi  of  the   Tragedy. 

LORD  BURLEIGH.— Dark  velvet  old   English  dress,  with  trunks,  cloak,   and  hi.' 

with  feathers,  red  stockings,  and  russet  shoes 
QOVERNOR  OF  TILBURY  FORT.— Crimson  velvet  robe,  body,  and  trunks,  rict 

ly  spangled,  crimson  stockings,  russet  boots,  hat   and   feathers,  sword,  belt   ai.t 

gauntlets. 
EARL  OF  LEICESTER Blue   or  purple  velvet  body,  trunks,   and  cli^nk,  blut 

stockings,  rus.set  shoes,  snord.  hat  and  feathers,  a;d  gauntlets. 
ejR  WALTER  RALEIGH.— Brown  velvet  shape,  with  clo;ik,  red  stocKings,  ru* 

set  shoes,  hat  and  feathers,  sword,  bcU,  gauntlets,  rnff,  &c. 
SIR  CHRISTOPHER  HATTON.— Li^ht  blue  thape,  cloak  and  bill,  hat  and  fe» 

♦.hers,  bluestockings,  shoes,  ruff,  and  gauntlets. 
MASTER  OF  THE  HORSE.— Grey  shape,  blue   stockings,  cloak,   hat  and  fe» 

tilers,  sword,  belt,  gauntlets,  and  rnssct  shoes. 
BEEFEATER.— Dark  velvet  shape,  yeoman-of-the-guard's  coal  over,   red  stock 

ings,  russet  ^hoes,  round,  flat,  black  \elvet  bat  and  ribbons,  and  large  ruff. 
WHISKERANDOS.— Black  velvet  body  and  'ruiiks,  with  white  silk  puffs,  and  sii 

ver  buttons,  large  ruff,  white  shoes  with  red  ribbons,  cross-belt  and  sword,  tugal 

loaf  hat,  and  large  plume  of  various  coloured  feathers,  and  ruffles. 
MRS.  DANGLE.— Neat  white  muslin  morning  drp.ss, 
TILBURINA, — Brorade  silk  dress,  with  hoojis,  elbow  sleeves,  with  lace  ruffles,  dreii 

open  in  front,  showing  white  satin  richly  embroidered  pedicoat,  icvvclird  stomach 

er,  gloves,  and  large  fan.  Queen  Elizabeth's  frill,  crimson  satin  high-hneled  s-hoee 

embroidered,  full-powdered  head-dress  ornamented  with    ace,  lappets,  and  jewels 
Second  drese .   White  satin,  white  shoes,  &c. 
CONFIDANT.— Old  satin  hooped  dress  of  silk,  powdered  head-dress,  will,  lai'p  'Ic 

higli-heeled  shoes,  &.c. 
PIECES  — •rinison  aad  green  satin  robes,  while  satin  dresses,  richly  sp»D«  •<   m 


■o 


SDITORIAL     INTRODUCTION. 

The  "Critic"  was  obnouely  suggested  by  the  Ihik«  of 
Bnckingham's  "  Rehearsal,"  of  which,  indeed,  it  is  a  very  pal- 
pable imitation.  Bat  in  its  adaptation  to  the  stage,  it  is  a  greal 
bnpkOvement  on  its  clever  prototype.  Although  many  attempts 
have  since  been  made  in  the  same  vein,  it  holds  its  place  as  the 
best  "  dramatization"  of  the  humors  of  the  green-room  and  the 
coulisses.  In  his  double  capacity  of  Manager  and  Author,  Sher- 
idan had  abundant  opportunities  for  detecting  many  of  those 
characteristic  absurdities  and  unrehearsed  stage- effects,  which 
he  has  ingeniously  introduced  in  this  piece. 

The  character  of  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  is  generally  believed 
to  have  been  intended  for  Cumberland,  author  of  "  The  West 
Indian,"  and  one  or  two  more  successful,  and  some  dozen  un- 
successful plays.  The  surmise  is  probably  not  unfounded.  A 
day  or  two  after  the  production  of  one  of  Sheridan's  Comedies, 
it  is  said,  a  friend  met  the  author,  and  told  him  he  had  seen  Cum- 
berland at  the  theatre  on  its  representation.  "  Ah,  well,"  re- 
plied Sheridan,  *♦  what  did  he  say  to  it  ?"  "  He  wasn't  seen  to 
•mile  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  Comedy,"  said  the 
firiecid.  "  Come,  now,  that's  very  ungrateful  of  him,"  retorted 
Sheridan ;  "  for  I  went  to  see  his  tragedy  the  other  evening, 
and  laughed  through  the  whole  of  it." 

•'  Mr.  Puff's  histo/y  of  the  art  and  mystery  of  puffing,"'  eaya 
a  London  theatrical  critic,  "  like  Touchstone's  several  degrees 
of  the  lie,  is  humorous  and  legitimate  satire.  Shendan,  from 
his  promiscuous  and  unrestrained  intercourse  with  society,  higD 
t^id  low,  literary  and  illiterate,  had  a  perfect  knowledge  of  life 
in  all  its  singular  varieties,  from  the  eix-bottle  hon  vivant  to  the 
mere  newspaper  hack,  who  divesiox  a  dinner.  Onr  author  took 
'.he  hint  of  the  auctioneers  from  Foote's  farce  of  '  Th«  Minor, 
^oote  having  the  original   before  h>m  va  the  celebrated  Lang- 


572874 


n  BBITORIAL     ;»TR.0U0CTIO» 

ford,)  which  Morton,  considering  as  fair  game,  has  made  e»  ei 
lent  use  of  in  Sir  Abel  Handy 's  scene  w^th  Farmer  Ashfield,  ia 
the  comedy  of  •  Speed  the  Ploagh.'  Dangle  and  Sneer  are  in- 
troduced chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  shewing  up  Sir  Fretful  and 
Puff".  Dangle,  who  is  said  to  have  been  intended  for  a  Mr. 
rbomas  Vaughan,  author  of  '  The  Hotel,'  is  one  of  those  the- 
atrical amateurs,  who  besiege  a  manager  with  impertinent  flattery 
and  gratuitous  advice— one  of  those  green-room  loungers, 
'  Who  for  a  pUiy-houte  freedom  sell  theii'  oum ; ' 

while  Mr.  Sneer  is  one  of  those  c-arping  characters,  who  \/iherit 
wit  in  the  same  degree  with  the  ape, — he  has  just  sufficient  to 
make  him  mischievous.  It  would  seem  that  '  The  Critic'  waa 
intended  as  a  good-humored  advertisement  to  the  tragedy-writera 
of  that  day,  not  to  offer  any  more  of  their  productions  to  the 
manager  of  Drury  Lane.  We  have  for  some  time  past  been 
wanting  just  such  another  seasonable  hint  to  stop  the  importation 
of  certain  tragedies,  the  authors  of  which  are  gentlemen  of  very 
violent  words  with  very  timorous  meanings  ;  who  load  their  lan- 
guage with  fustian  and  finery,  to  hide  the  poverty  and  nakednesa 
of  their  sentiment. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  any  thing  in  comedy  finer  than 
the  original  cast  of '  The  Critic'  Dodd,  Parsons,  Palmer,  King, 
Bannister,  and  Miss  Pope  !  Acting  never  went  beyond  Parsons 
In  Sir  Fretful.  Farren  is  good— Matthews  is  better — but  Par- 
•ons  was  supreme.  Tom  King,  as  Puff,  had  an  unceasing  viva- 
city, a  true  comic  spirit,  a  neat  and  rapid  delivery— every  word 
told.  This  attention  to  a  clear  and  distinct  enunciation  made 
toim  one  of  the  best  prologue-speakers  on  the  stage.  King,  to  an 
unblushing  effrontery,  added  considerable  smartness  and  whim 
In  impudent,  pragmatical  varlets,  he  was  unrivalled.  Liston 
hardly  came  up  to  Bannister  in  Don  Ferolo  IVTiiskerandoB.  His 
acting  was  certainly  inferior.  But  then  Liston's  countenance — 
the  antipodes  of  tragedy — became  a  thousand  times  more  comical 
from  its  oulr6  association ,  with  daggers  and  blank  verse.  The 
'^ery  Idea  that  Liston  was  going  to  be  pathetic  was  enough  to 
convulse  aa  audience.  We  have  seen  him  die  in  e  very  droll 
onannef.  -but  his  queer  expostulation  with  Mr  PntI,  that  •  ke 
vM»Jdn'i  ua\  dytnfi  ail  mgkt.'  wa*.   jierhaps.  hi»   «no#i  ludicroo* 


■DITORiAl      (NT!l'>DCCTION  t 

eflTect  It  was  when  Liston  felt  his  dignity  jflftndftd.  luiil  oi-  <•• 
deavored  to  appear  hurt,  that  he  was  most  irresistible.  MiM 
Pope,  in  T\lburina,  never  ha'^  an  equal.  Her  ample  huop — t«t 
Rostume — (stark  mad,  in  white  satin  ') — her  love  lorn  r»vins;i 
were  the  tip-top  of  burlesque  tragedy  Often  have  «•«  b«en  ,1« 
lighted  with  the  humor  of  this  exquisite  actress,  oi  whom 
Churchill  so  truly  prophecied.  Hers  was  a  style,  of  whiob  mo 
dem  play-goers  can  have  not  the  least  idea  It  wb»  ot  thf  of  a 
school,  the  result  of  genius,  study  and  observation  Mr.  Kaw 
lett's  performance  of  Pw/f  savors  too  much  ot  his  Caub  Qtwiem 
— he  repeats  the  good  things,  as  it  were,  by  rote  Mi  Jon«t 
ia  more  of  the  author,  who  feels  some  anxiety  tot  the  sac 
cess  of  his  tragedy.  He  has  a  fidgety  impatience  about  him, 
to  which  the  peculiarity  of  his  face  and  fignre  gives  great 
eflect.  He  looks  like  a  gentleman  who  lives  by  his  wits,  and 
who  seldom  dines,  but  at  other  people's  expense  (>f  the 
history  of  his  mendacious  arts,  we  believe  every  word  ;  we 
are  certain,  in  thu  imtance,  that  he  is  not  telling  oe  a  lie  ' 
We  may  here  remark,  that  an  actor  of  Moody's  genius  did 
oot  disdain  the  character  of  Lord   Burleigh,  in   which 

■  More  i*  meant  than  meeti  the  ear  '-' 
out  Moody  could  do  more  by  a  single  shake  of  the  head,  than 
many  who,  in  the  present  day,  are  accounted  good  comedians, 
oan  do  by  chattering  and  grinning  for  an  hour  upon  the  stretch  " 
From  this  description  it  will  be  seen  of  what  c.insequence 
the  smallest  characters  in  this  admirable  farce  were  consid 
ered  in  the  palmy  days  of  the  theatre.  The  starring  system 
has  broken  up  the  old  schools  of  acting;  and  now.  in  order 
to  see  a  prominent  part  well  played,  we  must  be  content  lu 
have  all  the  others  of  a  play  indifferently  represented.  Th« 
Cyitie  was  first  acted  at  Drury  Lane  in  the  yea;  1779,  si  J 
h  '.»  alwtyt  4  favorite   piece  opon  the   American  staf* 


Digitized  by  tlie  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2008  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.arcliive.org/details/criticortragedyrOOslier 


THE      CRITIC 


ACT     1 

Scene  I. — Brtakfast  table,with  a-^te-cjutpage,  two  katrt 
Mr.  (l.)  and  Mrs.  D.\noi.e.  (r.)  discovered  at  break 
fast,  reading  newspaper. 

Dan.  \Reading.\  Pshaw! — Nothing  out  pf>litic8 — audi 
hate  all  politics  but  theatrical  pohtica. —  VVhere's  th« 
Moniiiig  Chronicle  ? 

Mrs.  D.   Yes,  that's  yuui  Gazetio. 

Dan.  So,  here  we  have  it. — 

"  Theatrical  mtelUgence  extraoTdinaryJ' —  We  ktar  tkei* 
a  a  new  tragedy  m  rehearsal  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre, 
called  the  *  Spanish  Armada,'  said  to  be  written  by  Mr. 
Puff",  a  gentleman  well  known  m  the  theatrical  world  :  ij 
we  may  allow  ourselves  to  give  credit  to  the  report  of  the 
performers,  loho,  truth  to  say,  are  in  general  hut  indi^erent 
judfres,  this  pie:e  abounds  with  the  most  striking  and  re- 
ceived beauties  of  modern  composition.'' — So  !  I  am  very 
gla<l  my  friend  Puff's  tragedy  is  in  such  forwardness. — 
Mrs.  Dangle,  my  dear,  you  will  be  very  glad  to  hear  that 
Putins  tragedy — 

Mrs.  D.  Lord,  Mr.  Dangle,  why  will  you  plague  me 
about  such  nonsense? — Now  the  plays  are  begun,  I  shall 
have  no  peace. — Isn't  it  sufBcient  to  make  yourself  ridi- 
culous by  your  passion  for  the  theatre,  without  continual- 
ly teazing  me  to  join  you  I  Why  can't  you  lide  youi 
hobby-horse  without  desiring  to  place  me  on  a  pillion  h» 
nind  you,  Mr.  Dangle? 

Don.   Nay,  my  dear,  I  waj«  only  g"irg  to  read— 

Mrs   D.  No,   no,   you  will   never  read  anything  that'i 


wotlh  liBterlng  to  ;— haven't  jou  made  yourself  the  jert 
of  all  your  acquaintance  by  your  interference  in  matters 
where  you  have  no  business  ?  Are  you  not  called  a  thea- 
trical Quidnunc,  and  a  mock  Maecenas  to  second-hand  au- 
thors? 

Dan.  True  ;  my  power  with  the  Managers  ts  pretty 
notorious ;  but  is  it  no  credit  to  have  applications  from 
all  quarters  for  my  interest  ? — From  lords  to  recommend 
fiddlers,  from  ladies  to  get  boxes,  from  authors  to  get  ao 
awers,  and   from  actors  to  get  engagements. 

Mrs.  1).  Yes,  tnily;  you  have  contrived  to  gel  a  share 
in  all  the  plague  and  trouble  of  theatrical  property,  with- 
out the  profit,  or  even  the  credit  of  the  abuse  that  attend* 
it. 

Dan.  1  am  sure,  Mrs.  Dangle,  you  are  no  loser  by  it, 
however;  you  have  all  the  advantages  of  it:  mightn't 
you,  last  winter,  have  had  the  reading  of  the  new  panta 
mime  a  fortnight  previous  to  it j  pcrfonnance  ?  And 
doesn't  Mr.  Notter  let  you  take  places  for  a  play  before 
it  is  advertised,  and  set  you  down  for  a  box  for  every  new 
piece  through  the  season  ?  And  didn't  my  tiiend,  Mr 
Smaller,  dedicate  his  last  farce  to  you,  at  my  particulai 
request,  Mrs.  Dangle  1 

Mrs.  D.  \Rising.\  Yes,  but  wasn't  the  farce  damned, 
Mr.  Dangle  ?  And  to  be  sure  it  is  extremely  pleasant  to 
have  one's  house  made  the  motley  rendezvous  of  all  the 
lackeys  of  literature. 

Lan.  Mrs.  Dangle,  Mrs.  Dangle,  you  will  not  easily 
persuade  me  that  there  is  no  credit  or  importance  in  ue- 
mg  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  critics,  who  take  upon  them 
to  decide  f(5r  the  whole  town,  whose  opinion  and  patron 
age  all  writers  solicit,  and  whose  recommendation  no  ms 
nager  dares  refuse  I 

Mrs.  D.  Ridiculous ! — Both  managers  and  authors  of 
the  least  merit  laugh  at  your  pretensions.  The  Public  is 
their  Critic — without  whose  fair  approbation  they  know 
no  play  can  rest  on  the  stage,  and  with  whose  applause 
they  welcome  such  attacks  as  yours,  and  laugh  at  the  ma- 
lice of  them,  where  they  can't  at  the  wit 

Dan,  Very  well,  madam,  very  welL 

Enter  Servant,  l. 
Sciv    Mr   Sneei,  sir.  to  wait  on  you. 


TBS    -»nic.  • 

Dan.  Uh,  show  Mr  Sneer  up.  [Exit  Servant,  t  j  PlagTje 
an't,  now  we  must  appear  loving  and  affectionate,  or 
Sneer  will  hitch  us  into  a  story. 

Mrs.  D.  With  all  my  heart ;  you  can't  bo  more  ridicu 
lous  than  you  are. 

Dan.  You  are  enough  to  provoke— 

Enter  Mr.  Sneer,  l. 

Ha.  my  dear  Sneer,  I  am  vastly  glad  to  see  you.  My 
dear,  here's  Mr.  Sneer;  Mr.  Sneer,  my  dear;  my  dear. 
Mr.  Sneer. 

Mrs.  D.  Good  morning  to  you,  sir. 

Dan.  Mrs.  Dangle  and  1  have  been  diverting  ourselves 
with  the  papers.  Pray,  Sneer,  won't  you  go  to  Drury 
Lane  theatre  the  first  night  of  PufTs  tragedy  ? 

Sneer.  Yes ;  but  1  suppose  one  shan't  be  able  to  get  in, 
for  on  the  first  night  of  a  new  piece  they  always  fill  the 
house  with  ordei-s  to  support  it.  But  here.  Dangle,  1 
have  brought  you  two  pieces,  one  of  which  you  must  ex- 
ert yourself  to  make  the  managers  accept,  I  can  tell  you 
that,  for  'tis  written  by  a  person  of  consequence. 

[Gives  Dangle  two  manuscripts. 

Dan.  [Reading.]  "Bursts  into  tears,  and  exit."  What, 
IB  this  a  tragedy  ? 

Sneer.  No,  that's  a  genteel  comedy,  not  a  translation — 
only  taken  from  the  French  ;  it  is  written  in  a  style  which 
they  have  lately  tiied  to  run  down  ;  the  true  sentimental, 
and  nothing  ridiculous  in  it  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end. 

Mrs.  D.  Well,  if  they  had  kept  to  that,  1  should  not 
dave  been  such  an  enemy  to  the  stage  ;  there  was  some 
edification  to  be  got  from  those  pieces,  Mr.  Sneer. 

Sneer.  [Crossings  c]  1  am  quite  of  your  opinion,  Mi« 
I  )angle. 

Dan.  [Looking  at  the  other  MS.\  But  what  have  we 
here  ? — 'This  seems  a  very  odd— 

Sneer.  Oh,  that's  a  comedy,  on  a  very  new  plan ;  re- 
plete with  wit  and  miith,  yet  of  a  most  serious  moral! 
You  see  it  is  called  "  The  Reformed  Housebreaker ;'' 
where,  by  the  mere  force  of  humour,  housebreaking  is 
put  into  80  ridiculous  a  light,  that  if  the  piece  has  its  pro- 
t)ei  rua  1  have  no  doubt  but  that  bolts  and  bs  "s  wiU  b# 
entiiely  uselesfi  by  the  end  of  the  season. 


10  TBF    CRITIf  4„  1 

Dan.  Ef^ad,  this  is  new,  indeed! 

Sneer.  Yes;  it  is  written  by  a  paiticulir  friiMid  of"  mme, 
who  has  discovered  that  the  foHies  and  roil)les  uf  society 
are  subjects  unworthy  notice  of  tlie  Comic  Muse,  who 
should  be  taught  to  sloop  only  at  the  gieater  vices  and 
olacker  crimes  of  humanity — gibbetting  capital  ofibnces 
in  five  acts,  and  pillorying  petty  larcenies  in  two. — Ib 
ahort,  his  idea  is  to  dramatize  the  penal  laws,  and  make 
the  stage  a  court  of  ease  to  the  Old  Bailey, 

Dan.  That  is  to  unite  poetry  and  justice  indeed  t 

Enter  Servant,  l. 

Serv.  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary,  sir. 

Dan.  Beg  him  to  walk  up.  [Exit  Servant,  L.j  Now, 
Mrs.  Dangle,  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  is  an  author  to  yom 
own  taste. 

Mrs.  D.  I  confess  he  is  a  favourite  of  mine,  because 
every  body  else  abuses  him. 

Sneer.  Vei-y  much  to  the  credit  of  your  charity,  madam, 
if  not  @f  your  judgment. 

Dan.  But,  egad,  he  allows  no  merit  to  any  author  birt 
Himseli",  that's  the  truth  on't — though  he's  my  friend. 

Sneer.  Never !  He  is  as  euvious  as  an  old  maid  verg- 
ing on  the  desperation  of  six-and-thirty. 

Dan.  Very  tine,  egad — though  he's  my  friend. 

Sneer.  Then  his  affected  contempt  of  all  newspapej 
Btrictures;  though,  at  the  same  time,  he  is  tbc  sorest  man 
alive,  and  shrinks,  like  scorched  parchment,  from  the  fiei-y 
ordeal  of  ti-ue  criticism. 

Dan.  There's  no  denying  it — liiough  he  is  my  friend. 

Snier.  You  have  read  the  tragedy  he  has  just  finished, 
kaven't  you  ? 

Dan.  Oh,  yes;  he  sent  it  to  me  yesterday. 

Sneer.  Well,  and  you  think  it  execrable,  don't  you  ? 

Dan.  Wliy,  between  ourselves,  egad  I  must  own  — 
hough  he's  my  friend — that  it  is  one  of  tiie  most — He's 
here — [jl^i^ej  finished  and  most  admirable  perform — 

Sir  F,  [  Without,  L.j   Mr.  Sneer  with  him,  did  you  say  1 

Enter  Sir  Fretful,  l.     lie  crosses  to  l.  c. 

Dan.  Ah,  my  deai  friend  ! — Egad,  we  were  just  speak- 
''^sr  of  your  tragedy. — Admirable.  Sir  Fretful,  admirable* 


Scene  I.]  THE    CRITIC,  i, 

Sjieer.  (u.  c.)  You  never  did  auy  thing  beyond  it  Sii 
Fretful — never  in  your  life. 

Sir  F.  (l.  c.)  You  make  me  extremely  happy  ;  foi 
without  a  compliment,  my  dear  Sneer,  there  isn't  a  man 
in  the  world  whose  judgment  I  value  as  I  do  yours — and 
Mr.  Bangle's, 

Mrs.  D.  (r,)  They  are  only  laughing  at  you.  Sir  Fret- 
ful, for  it  was  but  just  now  that — 

Dan.  (L.)  Mrs.  Dangle !  Ah,  Sir  Fretfiil,  you  know 
Mrs.  Dangle.  My  friend,  Sneer,  was  rallying  just  now — 
He  knows  how  she  admires  you,  and — 

Sir  F.  Oh,  Lord,  I  am  sure  Mr.  Sneer  has  more  taste 
and  sincerity  than  to — [Aside,]  A  damned  double-faced 
fellow ! 

Dan.  Yes,  y,es — Sneer  will  jest — but  a  better  humour- 
ed— 

Sir  F.  Oh,  I  know- 
Daw,  He  has  a  ready  turn  for  ridicule — his  wit  costs 
him  nothing. 

Sir  F.  [Aside.\  No,  egad — or  I  should  wonder  how  be 
came  by  it. 

Dan.  But,  Sir  Fretful,  have  you  sent  your  play  to  the 
managers  yet  ?  or  can  I  be  of  any  service  to  you  ? 

Sir  F.  No,  no,  I  thank  you  ;  I  sent  it  to  the  manager 
of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  this  morning. 

Sneer.  I  should  have  thought,  now,  that  it  might  have 
been  cast  (as  the  actors  call  it,)  better  at  Drury  Lane. 

Sir  F.  Oh,  lud !  no — never  send  a  play  there  while  1 
live — harkee  !  [  Whispers  Sneer. 

Sneer.  "  Writes  himself!'^  I  know  he  does — 
Sir  F.  I  say  nothing — I  take  away  from  no  man's  merit 
— am  hurt  at  no  man's  good  fortune — T  say  nothing — But 
this  I  will  say — through  all  my  knowledge  of  life,  I  have 
obsei^ved — that  there  is  not  a  passion  so  strongly  rooted 
in  the  human  heart  as  en\'y  ! 

Sneer.  I  believe  you  have  reason  for  what  you  say,  in- 
deed. 

Sir  F.  Besides — I  can  tell  you  it  is  not  always  so  safe 
to  leave  a  play  in  the  hands  of  those  who  write  them- 
selves. 

Sneer.  What,  they  may  steal  from  them,  hoy  my  deai 
Plagiar*  ? 


1»  fHI    :RITTC.  ,ACTi 

Sir  F.  SteaJ  I — to  be  sure  they  may  ;  at  d^  egad,  sei-ve 
/our  best  thoughts  as  gypsies  do  stolen  children— disfigure 
them  to  make  'em  pass  for  their  own. 

Sneer.  But  your  present  work  is  a  sacrifice  to  Melpo 
mene,  and  he,  you  know,  never — 

Sir  F.  That's  no  security.  A  dexterous  plagiarist  may 
Jo  anything. — Why,  sir,  for  aught  I  know,  he  might  take 
out  some  of  the  best  things  in  my  tragedy,  and  put  thenj 
into  his  own  comedy. 

Sneer.  That  might  be  done,  I  dare  be  sworn. 

Sir  F.  And  then,  if  such  a  person  gives  you  the  leasS 
hint  or  assistance,  he  is  devilish  apt  to  take  the  merit  of 
the  whole — 

Dan.  If  it  succeeds. 

Sir  F.  Aye — but  with  regard  to  this  piece,  I  think  I 
can  hit  that  gentleman,  for  I  can  safely  swear  he  never 
read  it. 

Sneer.  I'll  tell  you  how  you  may  hurt  him  more — 

Sir  F.  How  1 

Sneer.  Swear  he  wrote  it. 

Sir  F.  Plague  on't  now,  Sneer,  1  shall  take  it  ill.  I 
relieve  you  want  to  take  away  my  character  as  an  author ! 

Sneer.  Then  1  am  sure  you  ought  to  be  veiy  much 
obliged  to  me. 

Sir  F.  Hey  !— Sir  I 

Dan.  Oh,  you  know,  he  never  means  what  he  says. 

Sir  F.  Sincerely,  then — you  do  like  the  piece  ? 

Sneer.   Wonderfully  ! 

Sir  F.  But  come,  now,  there  must  be  something  that 
you  think  might  be  mended,  hey? — Mr.  Dangle,  has  no- 
thing struck  you  ? 

Dan.  Why,  faith,  it  is  but  an  ungracious  thing,  for  the 
m.)s*.  part,  to — 

Sir  F.  With  most  authors  it  is  just  so,  indeed  ;  they 
are  in  general  strangely  tenacious ! — But,  for  my  part,  1 
am  never  so  well  pleased  as  when  a  judicious  critic  points 
out  any  defect  to  me  ;  for  what  is  the  purpose  of  showing 
a  work  to  a  friend,  if  you  don't  mean  to  profit  by  his  opi- 
nion ? 

Sneer.  Very  true.  Why,  then,  though  1  seriously  ad 
mire  the  piece  upon  the  whole,  yet  there  is  one  small  o\> 
iection  ;   which,  if  you'U  tdv»  vae  leave,  I'll  meutioo. 


tcEWB  i.  THt.   rKf'rK'  13 

dir  F.  Sir,  you  can't  oblige  me  more 

Sneer.  I  think  it  wants  incident. 

Sir  F  Good  Goi  I — you  surpnse  me  ! — wants  Inci 
dent ! 

Sneer.  Yes ;   I  own  I  think  the  incidents  are  too  few. 

Sir  F.  Good  God  ! — Believe  me,  Mr.  Sneer,  there  ia 
no  person  for  whose  judgment  I  have  a  more  implicit  de- 
ference. But  I  protest  to  you,  Mr.  Sneer,  I  am  oidy  ap- 
prehensive that  the  incidents  are  too  crowded.  My  deai 
Dangle,  how  does  it  strike  you  ? 

Dan.  Really,  I  can't  agree  with  my  friend  Sneer.  I 
think  the  plot  quite  sufficient ;  and  the  four  first  acts  by 
many  degrees  the  best  I  ever  read  or  saw  in  my  life.  If 
I  might  venture  to  suggest  anything,  it  is  that  the  interest 
rather  falls  off  in  the  fifth. 

Sir  F.  Rises,  I  believe  you  mean,  sir— 

Dan.  No ;  I  don't,  upon  my  word. 

Sir  F.  Yes,  yes,  you  do,  upon  my  soul — it  certainly 
lon't  fall  off,  I  assure  yeu. — No,  no,  it  don't  fall  off. 

Dan.  Now, 'Mrs.  Dangle,  didn't  you  say  it  struck  yob 
in  the  same  light  ? 

Mrs.  D.  (r.)  No,  indeed,  I  did  not — I  did  not  see  a 
fault  in  any  pait  of  the  play  fi'om  the  beginning  to  the 
end. 

Sir  F.  [Crossing  to  Mrs.  Dangle.]  Upon  my  soul,  the 
women  are  the  best  judges  after  all ! 

Mrs.  D.  Or,  if  I  made  any  objection,  1  am  sure  it  was 
to  nothing  in  the  piece  !  but  that  I  was  afraid  it  was,  or 
the  whole,  a  little  too  long. 

Sir  F.  Pray,  madam,  do  you  speak  as  to  duration  of 
time ;  or  do  you  mean  that  the  stoiy  is  tediously  spun 
out  ? 

Mrs.  D.  Oh,  lud !  no.  I  speak  only  with  reference  to 
the  usual  length  of  acting  plays. 

Sir  F.  Then  I  am  very  happy — very  happy,  indeed — 
Decause  he  play  is  a  short  play,  a  remarkably  short  play : 
I  should  not  venture  to  differ  with  a  lady  on  a  point  of 
asto ;  but,  on  these  occasions,  the  watch,  you  know,  is  the 
.ritic. 

Mrs   D.  Then,  I  suppose,  it  must  have  been  Mr.  Dan 
te's  drawling  manner  of  reading  it  to  me. 

Stt  F.  \ Crosse*,  L..   and  back  U  a.  c.l  Ob.  if  Mr.  Daa 


<4  THE  CTlTTrc.  [Act 

gie  read  it,  that's  quite  another  affair !  But  I  assuie  you 
Mrs.  Dangle,  the  first  evening  you  can  spare  me  thre« 
nours  and  an  half,  I'll  undertake  to  read  you  the  whole, 
from  beginning  to  end,  with  the  Prologue  and  Epilogue, 
and  allow  time  for  the  music  between  the  acts. 

Mrs.  D.  I  hope  to  see  it  on  the  stage  next.       Exit,  r. 
Dan.  Well,  Sir  Fretful,  I  wish  you  may  be  able  to  get 
rid   as  easily  of  the  newspaper  criticisms  as  you  do  of 
oura. 

Sir  F.  [Crosses,  c.\  The  newspapers! — Sir,  they  are 
the  most  villainous — licentious — abominable — infernal — 
Not  that  I  ever  read  them!  no!  I  make  it  a  I'ule  never 
to  look  into  a  newspaper. 

Dan.  (l.)  You  are  ^quite  right — for  it  certainly  must 
hurt  an  author  of  delicate  feelings  to  see  the  liberties  they 
take. 

Sir  F.  No! — quite  the  contrary  ;  their  abuse  is,  in  fact, 
the  best  panegyric — I  like  it,  of  all  things.  An  author's 
reputation  is  only  in  danger  from  their  support. 

Sneer,  (r.)  Why,  that's  true — and  that  attack  now  on 
you  the  other  day — 

Sir  F.    What  ?  where  1 

Dan.  Aye,  you  mean  in  a  paper  of  Thursday  ;  it  was 
completely  ill-natured,  to  be  sure. 

Sir  F.  Oh,  so  much  the  better — Ha  !  ha !  ha  !~1 
wouldn't  have  it  otherwise. 

Dan.  Certainly,  it  is  only  to  be  laughed  at ;  for — 

Sir  F.  You  don't  happen  to  recollect  what  the  fellow 
said,  do  you  ] 

Sneer  Pray,  Dangle — Sir  Fretful  seems  a  little  anx- 
ious ! 

Sir  F.  Oh,  lud,  no! — anxious — not  I — not  the  least  I 
— But  one  may  as  well  hear,  you  know. 

Dan.  Sneer,  do  you  recollect? — [^jzV/e.]  Make  out 
something. 

Sneer.  I  will,  \To  Dangle.]  Yes,  yes,  1  remember  per- 
fectly. 

Sir  F.  Well,  and  pray,  now — not  that  it  signifies,  what 
might  the  gentleman  say  1 

Sneer.  Why  he  roundly  asserts  that  you  have  not  the 
slightest  invention  or  original  genius  whatever  ;  tliough 
you  are  the  greatest  traducer  of  all  other  authors  living. 

iHr  F.   Hal    ha!   ha!      Very  pcod  I 


•0«KB  i.]  TIIK    PKITTC.  15 

Sneer.  Tlmt,  as  to  comedy,  you  have  not  one  idea  of 
four  own,  he  believes,  even  in  youv  common-place  book, 
where  stray  jokes  and  pilfered  witticisms  are  kept  with  as 
much  method  as  the  ledger  of  the  Lost  and  Stolen  Office. 

Sir  F.  Ha !  ha !  ha !       Very  pleasant ! 

Sneer.  Nay,  that  you  are  so  unlucky  as  not  to  have  the 
skill  even  to  steal  with  taste:  but  that  you  glean  from  the 
refuse  of  obscure  volumes,  where  more  judicious  plagia- 
rists have  been  before  you ;  so  tliat  tlie  body  of  your 
work  is  a  composition  of  dregs  and  sediments,  like  a  bad 
tavern's  v/orst  wine. 

Sir  F.  Ila!  ha! 

Sneer.  In  your  most  serious  efforts,  he  says,  your  bom- 
bast would  be  less  intolerable,  if  the  thoughts  were  ever 
suited  to  the  expression;  but  the  homeliness  of  the  senti- 
ment stares  through  the  fantastic  encumbrance  of  its  fine 
languaoe,  like  a  clown  in  one  of  the  new  uniforms  ! 

Sir  F.  Ha  !  ha ! 

Sneer.  That  your  occasional  tropes  and  flowers  suit  the 
general  coarseness  of  your  style,  as  tambour  sprigs  would 
a  ground  of  linsey-woolsey ;  while  your  imitations  of  Shak- 
speare  resemble  the  mimicry  of  Falstaff's  Page,  and  are 
about  as  near  the  standard  of  the  original. 

SirF.  Hai 

Sneer.  In  short,  that  even  the  finest  passages  you  stea 
are  of  no  service  to  you;  for  the  poverty  of  your  own 
language  prevents  their  assimilating  ;  so  that  they  lie  on 
the  surface  like  lumps  of  raai-1  on  a  barren  moor,  encum- 
bering what  it  is  not  in  their  power  to  fertilize! 

Sir  F.  [After  great  agitation.]  Now,  another  person 
would  be  vexed  at  this. 

Sneer.  Oh  !  but  I  wouldn't  have  told  you,  only  to  divert 
you. 

Sir  F.  I  know  it — I  am  diverted — Ha !  ha !  ha  ! — not 
the  least  invention ! — Ha !  ha !  ha  !  very  good !  very 
good ! 

Sneer.  Yes — no  genius  !  Ha !  ha !  ha ! 

Dan.  A  severe  rogue!  ha!  ha!  But  you  are  quite 
right,  Sir  Fretful,  never  to  read  such  nonsense. 

Sir  F.  To  be  su-i-e — for,  if  there  is  any  thing  to  one's 
praise,  it  is  a  foolish  vanity  to  be  gratified  at  it ;  and  if  it 
IS  abuse — why  one  is  always  sure  to  hear  of  it  from  oa« 
damued  good-natured  friend  or  another  I 


10  THE  CBITia  (AOffL 

Enter  Servant,  l. 

8erv.  Mr.  Puff,  sir,  has  sent  word  that  the  last  rehear- 
sal is  to  be  this  morning,  and  that  he'll  call  on  you  pre- 
sently. 

Dan.  That's  true — I  shall  certainly  be  at  home.  YExit 
Servant^  l.]  Now,  Sir  Fretful,  if  you  have  a  raind  to  have 
justice  done  you  in  the  way  of  answer — Egad,  Mr.  Puff's 
your  man. 

Sir  F.  Pshaw !  sir,  why  should  I  wish  to  have  it  an- 
swered, when  I  tell  you  I  am  pleased  at  it  ? 

Dan.  True,  I  had  forgot  that.  But  I  hope  you  are  not 
fretted  at  what  Mr.  Sneer — 

Sir  F.  Zounds  !  no,  Mr.  Dangle,  don't  I  tell  you  these 
things  never  fret  me  in  the  least. 

Dan.  Nay,  I  only  thought — 

Sir  F.  And  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Dangle,  'tis  damned 
affronting  in  you  to  suppose  that  I  am  hurt,  when  I  tell 
you  I  am  not. 

Sneer.  But  why  so  warm,  Sir  Fretful  ? 

Sir  F.  Gadslife !  Mr.  Sneer,  you  are  as  absurd  as  Dan- 
gle :  how  often  must  I  repeat  it  to  you,  that  notliing  can 
vex  me  but  your  supposing  it  possible  for  me  to  mind  the 
damned  nonsense  you  have  been  repeating  to  me ! — And 
let  me  tell  you,  if  you  continue  to  believe  this,  you  must 
mean  to  insult  me,  gentlemen— and  then  yout  disrespect 
will  affect  »ie  no  more  than  the  newspaper  criticisms — 
and  I  shall  treat  it  with  exactly  the  same  calm  indiffer- 
ence and  philosophic  contempt — and  so,  your  servant. 
^  ^  "^  [Fxit.j.. 

Stieer.  Ha!  ha  I  ha!  Poor  Sir  Fretful !  Now  will  he 
go  and  vent  his  philosophy  in  anonymous  abuse  of  all 
modern  critics  and  authors.  But,  Dangle,  you  must  get 
your  friend  Puff  to  take  me  to  the  rehearsal  of  his  trage- 
dy. .    \ 

Dan.  I'll  answer  for  it,  he'll  thank  you  foi  desirmg  Jt 

Re-enter  Servant,  l 

Serv.  Mr.  Puff,  sir. 
Dan.  My  dear  Puff! 

Enter  Puff,  l. 

Puff.  My  dear  Dangle,  how  is  it  with  you  ? 


•cKHi  I  J  Vie  cRjTic.  17 

Dan.  Mr.  Sneer,  give  me  leave  to  introduce  Mr.  Puff 
to  you. 

Puff.  Mr.  Siieer  is  this?  [Crossing  to  Sneer,]  Sir,  he  ii 
t  gentleman  whom  T  have  long  panted  for  the  honour  of 
knowing — a  gentleman,  whose  critical  talents  and  tran 
tcendant  judgment — 

Sneer.  Dear  sir — 

Dan.  Nay,  don't  be  modest,  Sneer;  my  friend  PuflToD- 
iy  talks  to  you  in  the  style  of  his  profession. 

Sneer.  His  profession  I 

Puff.  Yes,  sir ;  I  make  no  secret  of  the  trade  I  follow 
—among  friends  and  brother  authors ;  Dangle  knows  1 
love  to  be  fi-ank  on  the  subject,  and  to  advertise  myself 
viva  voce. — I  am,  sir,  a  Practitioner  in  Panegyric,  or,  to 
•peak  more  plainly — a  Professor  of  the  Art  of  Puffing,  at 
your  service — or  anybody  else's. 

Sneer.  Sir,  you  are  very  obliging  ! — I  believe,  Mr.  Puff, 
I  have  often  admired  your  talents  in  the  daily  prints. 

Pfiff.  Yes,  sir,  I  flatter  myself  1  do  as  much  business 
in  that  way  as  any  six  of  the  fraternity  in  town — Devilish 
hard  work  all  the  summer — Friend  Dangle  never  worked 
harder ! — But,  harkye — the  Winter  Managers  were  a  lit- 
tle sore,  [  believe. 

Dan.  No  I  I  believe  they  t<x)k  it  all  in  good  part. 

Puff.  Aye !  Then  that  must  have  been  affectation  in 
them  ;  for,  egad,  there  were  some  of  the  attacks  which 
there  was  no  laughing  at. 

Sneer.  Aye,  the  humorous  ones.  But  I  should  think, 
Mr.  Puff",  that  authors  would  in  general  be  able  to  do  thi« 
sort  of  work  for  themselves. 

Puff.  Why,  yes — but  in  a  clumsy  way.  Besides,  w« 
!ook  on  that  as  an  encroachment,  and  so  take  the  oppo- 
fite  sido.  I  dare  say,  now,  you  conceive  half  the  very 
civil  paragraphs  and  advertisements  you  see,  to  be  writ- 
ton  by  the  parties  concerned,  or  their  friends?  No  such 
thing.  Nine  out  o(  ten,  manufactured  by  me  in  the  way 
of  business. 

Sneer.   Ifi Jeed  1 

Pu^.  Even  the  auctioneers,  now — the  auctioneers,  I 
•ay,  though  the  rogues  have  lately  got  some  credit  for 
their  language — not  an  article  of  the  merit  their's  ! — Taks 
them  oat  of  their  pulpits,  and   they  are  ob  dull  as  cat* 


18  THE    CRITIC. 


[Act  It 


{cjgues! — No,  sir;  'twas  I  first  enriched  their  sty?e — 'twai 
I  first  taught  them  to  crowd  their  adveitisementa  with 
panegyncal  superlatives,  each  epithet  rising  above  the 
other — like  the  bidders  in  their  own  auction-rooms  !  From 
ME  they  learned  to  enlay  their  phraseology  with  variega- 
ted chips  of  exotic  metaphor :  by  me,  too,  their  inventive 
faculties  were  called  forth.  Yes,  sir,  by  me  they  were 
insti-ucted  to  clothe  ideal  walls  with  gi-atuitous  fruit — to 
insinuate  obsequious  rivulets  into  visionary  groves — to 
teach  courteous  shrubs  to  nod  their  approbation  of  the 
giateful  soil !  or,  on  emergenciee,  to  raise  upstart  oaks, 
where  there  never  had  been  an  acorn;  to  create  a  de- 
lightful vicinage,  without  the  assistance  of  a  neighbour; 
or  fix  the  temple  of  Hygeia  in  the  fens  of  L,':ncol<isliire ! 

Dan.  I  am  aure  you  have  done  them  infinite  service  ; 
for  now,  when  a  gentleman  is  ruined,  he  parts  with  his 
house  with  some  credit. 

Sneer.  Semce  !  if  they  had  any  gi-atitude,  they  would 
erect  a  statue  to  him.  But  pray,  Mr.  Puff,  what  first  put 
you  on  exercising  your  talents  in  this  way  ] 

Puff.  Egad,  sir,  sheer  necessity,  the  proper  parent  of 
an  art  so  nearly  allied  to  invention  ;  you  must  know,  Mr 
Sneer,  that  from  the  first  time  I  tried  my  hand  at  an  ad- 
vertisement, my  success  was  such,  that,  for  some  time  af- 
ter, I  led  a  most  extraordinary  life,  indeed ! 

Sneer.  How,  pray  ? 

Puff.  Sir,  I  supported  myself  two  years  entirely  by 
my  misfortunes. 

Sneer.  By  your  misfortunes  ? 

Puff.  Yes,  sir,  assisted  by  long  sickness,  and  other  oc- 
casional disorders ;  and  a  very  comfortable  living  I  had 
af  it. 

Sneer.  From  sickness  and  misfortune  ! 

Puff.  Harkee  ! — By  advertisements — "  To  the  ch&rita- 
o!e  and  humane  !"  and  "  To  those  whom  Providence  hath 
tiessed  with  affluence  !" 

Sneer.  Oh — 1  understand  you. 

Puff.  And,  in  truth,  I  desei-ved  what  I  got ;  for  I  sup 
pose  never  man  went  tlirough  such  a  series  of  calamities 
m  the  same  space  of  time  ! — Sir,  i  was  five  times  made  a 
bankiirpt,  and  reduced  from  a  state  of  affluence,  by  a 
train  of  unavolable  misfortune?  I      Tren,   sir,   though    o 


rei-y  irulvistJi  ms  trndesman  J  vva*  twice  btjmi  out,  yind 
lost  my  little  all,  both  tim»»e  ?  I  lived  iipoji  tli.»8«  fir«s  a 
month.  F  8c-f>»i  al\«r  wa.H  cmfinod  by  a  niu6i  excnjcialuig 
disdidei,  and  lost  the  use  of  my  limbp !  That  told  very 
well ;  for  I  had  the  case  strongly  attested,  and  went  abou' 
to  collect  the  subsciiptions  myself 

Dan.  E<»ad.  I  believe  that  was  when  you  first  CHlieJ  on 
me — 

Pvff.  What,  in  November  last? — ()\\,  no!  When  I 
called  on  you  I  was  n  close  prisoner  in  the  Marshalsea, 
for  a  debt  hunevolently  contracted  to  sei^ve  a  friend  !  I 
was  afteiwajds  twice  tapped  for  a  dropsy,  which  declined 
into  a  vei-y  profitable  consumption  !  I  was  then  reduced 
to — Oh,  no — then,  1  became  a  widow  with  six  helpless 
childien — after  having  had  eleven  husbands  pressed,  and 
being  left  every  time  eight  months  gone  with  child,  and 
without  money  to  get  me  into  an  hospital ! 

Sneer.  And  you  bore  all  with  patience,  I  make  no 
duubt? 

Puff'.  Why,  yes, — though  1  made  some  occasional  at- 
tempts at  felo  de  se  ;  but  as  I  did  not  find  those  rash  ac- 
tions answer,  [  left  off'  killing  myself  very  soon.  Well, 
sir — at  last,  what  with  bankruptcies,  fires,  gouts,  dropsies, 
imprisonments,  and  other  valuable  calamities,  having  got 
together  a  pretty  handsome  sum,  1  determined  to  quit  a 
business  which  had  always  gone  rather  against  my  con- 
science, and  in  a  more  liberal  way  still  to  indulge  my  ta- 
lents foi  fiction  and  embellishments,  through  my  favourite 
channels  of  diunial  communication — and  so,  sir,  you  have 
my  history. 

i^neer.  Moat  obliiringly  communicative,  indeed.  Bui 
surely,  Mr.  Pufl.  there  is  uo  great  my  iter  y  in  ytiui  preseui 
professi  jn  \ 

Puff.  Mystery  I  Sir,  1  will  lake  upon  me  to  say  the 
matter  was  never  scientifically  treated,  nor  reduced  to 
rule,  befoie. 

Sneer.    Reduced  to  rule  t 

Puff.  Oh,  hid,  sir  I  you  are  very  ignorant,  1  am  afraid 
— Yes,  sir — l^uffing  is  of  various  sotts  : — the  pnncipal 
are — the  i'ufl"  dnecl — the  Puff'  prelimifiai-y — the  Pulf 
collateral — the  Puff  collusive — and  the  F'uff  >lilique,  oi 
P'-&  bv  imulicatioD.  ail  assume,  rh  cii  ciiiiislanv  »i» 


20  TUB  CRITIC.  ;act  I 

require,  th*  \ariouB  fbrms  of — Letter  to  the  Editor — C)© 
zasional  Anecdote — Impartial  Critique — Observation  ftonB 
Correspondent— or  Advertisements  from  the  Party. 

Sneer.  The  Puff  direct,  I  can  conceive — 

Puff.  Oh,  yes,  that's  simple  enough — for  instant  e — A 
new  Comedy  or  Farce  is  to  be  produced  at  one  of  the 
iheatrea  (though,  by  the  bye,  they  don't  bring  out  half 
what  they  ought  to  do) :  the  author,  suppose  Mr,  Smal- 
ler, or  Mr.  Dapper,  or  any  particular  fiiend  of  mine — 
rery  well ;  the  day  before  it  is  to  be  performed,  I  write 
an  account  of  the  manner  in  which  it  was  received — 
1  have  the  plot  from  the  author — and  only  add — Charac 
ters  strongly  drawn — highly  coloured — hand  of  a  mastei 
— fiind  of  genuine  humour — mine  of  invention — neat 
dialogue — attic  salt ! — Then  for  the  pei-formance — Mr, 
Baker  was  astonishingly  great  in  the  character  of  Sir 
Harry  f  That  universal  and  judicious  actor,  Mr.  Eger- 
ton,  perhaps  never  appeared  to  more  advantage  than  in 
the  Colonel :  but  it  Ls  not  in  the  power  of  language  to 
do  justice  to  Mr,  Jones  ! — Indeed,  he  more  than  merited 
those  repeated  bursts  of  applause  which  he  drew  from  a 
most  brilliant  and  judicious  audience  !  In  short,  we  are 
at  a  loss  which  to  admire  most — the  unrivalled  genius  of 
the  author,  the  great  attention  and  liberality  ol  the  ma- 
nagers, the  wonderful  abilities  of  the  painter,  or  the  in- 
credible exertions  of  all  the  pei-forraers  ! 

Sneer.  That's  pretty  v/ell,  indeed,  sir. 

Puff.  Oh,  cool,  quite  cool,  to  what  I  eometimea  do. 

Sneer.  And  do  you  think  there  are  any  who  are  influ 
enced  by  this  ? 

Puff.  Oh,  lud  !  yes,  su  ,  the  number  of  those  who  uu- 
dergo  the  fatigue  of  judging  for  themselves  is  very  small 
indeed  I 

Dan.   Ha  !   ha  !   ha  ! — 'gad,  1  know  it  is  so. 

Puff.  Ah  t<»  the  Puff  oblique,  or  Pufl'  by  implication,  it 
is  too  extensive,  and  branches  into  so  many  varieties,  that 
it  is  impossible  to  be  illustrated  by  an  instance ;  it  is  the 
last  principal  clasi*  -if  th»»  Art  >»f  Puffing — an  art  whicb 
I  hope  you  will  ni>w  agrnt-  with  n)e.  »> /»t  th«  highesi  dig 
oily 

Snee*  Sii.  i  an;  complulfty  •*  •ixiv^^n  i^.tr.  (.•>  ih«  md 
lM>rt*ncd  and  iuKuouily  «.>t   y  >ijr  \fm(&**\  n,      «.d(1  sow    «i/ 


SccKB   I  J  TBI    CRITIC.  2) 

there  is  but  one  thing  which  can  possibly  iuciease  my 
respect  for  you,  and  that  is,  your  permitting  me  to  be 
present  this  morning  at  the  rehearsal  of  your  new  trage — 

Puff.  Hush,  for  HeavenN  sake. — My  tragedy  ! — Egad, 
Oangle,  1  take  this  very  il  ;  you  know  how  apprehensive 
\  am  oF  being  known  to  be  the  author. 

Dan.  'Ifaith,  I  would  not  have  told  ;  but  it's  in  the  pa 
pers,  and  your  name  at  length — in  the  Morning  Chroni- 
ole. 

Puff.  Ah  !  those  damned  editors  never  can  keep  a  se- 
cret !  Well,  Mr.  Sneer — no  doubt  you  will  do  me  great 
honour — I  shall  be  infinitely  happy — highly  flattered. 

Dan.  I  believe  it  must  be  near  the  time — shall  we  gt 
together? 

Puff.  No  ;  it  will  not  be  yet  this  hour,  for  they  are  al- 
ways late  at  that  theatre :  besides,  I  must  meet  yoii  there, 
for  I  have  some  little  matters  to  send  to  the  paper*,  and  a 
few  paragraphs  to  scribble  before  I  go.  [Looking  at  me- 
morandums.] Here  is  •  a  Conscientious  Baker,  on  the 
Subject  of  the  Anny  Bread,'  and  'a  Detester  of  Visible 
Brick-work,  in  favour  of  the  new-invented  Stucco ;'  both 
in  the  style  of  Junius,  and  promised  for  to-morrow. — 
Here  is  an  invention  for  the  running  our  mail-coaches  by 
steam,  and  lighting  them  by  gas. — 1  have  also  a  very  in- 
genius  design  for  a  self-acting  air-pump,  to  be  fixed  in  the 
confined  streets,  which  is  to  supersede  the  necessity  of 
country  excursions  for  the  benefit  of  the  health.  Here 
are  likewise  many  other  valuable  memorandums,  most  of 
which,  I  have  no  doubt,  but  1  shall  render  equally  prac- 
Cicable,  and  of  the  greatest  importance  to  the  nation.  So, 
»gad.  I  have  not  a  moment  to  lose.  \Exeu%t. 

BHD    or    ACT    L 


S?  THE   CRr-nr  (Aerh 

ACT     M 

Scene   L— TA<  TheeUrt 

finUr  Dan  jle,   Puff,  and  Sneer,   l.,   oj?  htfmt  the  Cut 
tain, — 'hree  chairs  an  L. 

Pti^.  (c.)  No,  no,  si!  ;  what  Shakspeare  says  of  actors 
nay  be  belter  applied  to  the  purpose  of  plays:  fA^y  ought 
lo  be  'the  abstract  and  brief  chronicles  of  the  times. 
Therefore  when  history,  and  paiticularly  the  history  of 
our  own  country,  furnishes  anything  like  a  case  in  point, 
to  the  time  in  which  an  authoi  writes,  if  he  knows  his 
own  interest,  he  will  take  advantage  of  it ;  so,  sir,  I  call 
my  tragedy,  'The  Spanish  Armada;'  and  have  laid  the 
scene  before  Tilbury  Fort. 

Sneer,  (r.)   A  most  happy  thought,  certainly  ! 

Dan.  Egad,  it  was  ;  I  told  you  so.  But  pray,  now,  i 
don't  understand  how  you  have  contnved  to  introduce  any 
love  into  it. 

Pujf.  Love ! — Oh,  nothing  so  easy  :  for  it  is  a  received 
point  among  poets,  that  where  liistory  gives  you  a  good 
heroic  outline  for  a  play,  you  may  fill  up  with  a  little  lov6 
at  your  own  discretion  :  in  doing  which,  nine  times  out 
of  ten,  you  only  make  up  a  deficiency  in  the  private  his- 
toiy  of  tlie  times.  Now  1  rather  think  I  have  done  this 
with  s  >me  success. 

Sneer.  No  scandal  about  Queen  Elizabeth,  I  hope? 

Pu^.  Oh,  lud !  no,  no.  I  only  suppose  the  Govenioi 
of  Tilbury  Fort's  daughter  to  be  in  love  with  the  son  of 
the  Spanish  Admiral. 

Sneer.   Oh,  is  that  all  1 

Dan.  Excellent,  'ifaith  !  I  <iee  it  at  once.  But  wf  n't 
this  appear  rather  improbable? 

Pujf'.  To  be  sure  it  will — bu»  what  the  plague  !  a  play 
ie  not  to  show  occurrences  that  happen  every  day,  uut 
things  just  so  strange,  that  though  they  never  did,  ihey 
might  happen. 

Sneer.  Ceitahily,  nothing  is  unnatural,  that  is  not  phy 
•ically  impossible. 

Pvff.  Very  tiue — and,    for  that    matter,    Don    Fen^lo 


•egif»  I  1  '^'tR   rRr  nc.  2.T 

fVh  Hkerariiloa — fbr  that's  the  lovei-'j  name— might  hare 
beot.  over  here  in  the  train  of  the  Spanish  Ambassador; 
or  Ti'biinna,  for  that  is  the  larly's  name,  might  have  been 
in  love  with  him,  from  having  heard  his  character,  or  seon 
his  picture  ;  or  from  know^ing  that  he  was  the  last  man 
in  the  world  she  ouglit  to  be  in  love  with,  or  for  any  other 
good  female  reason.  However,  sir,  the  fact  is  that  though 
ihe  is  but  a  knight's  daughter,  egad  !  she  \i>  in  love  like 
fcny  princess ! 

Dan.   Poor  young  lady  !    I  feel  for  her  alroady  I 
Pvff.   Oh,   amazing  ! — her    poor    susceptible    heart   ii 
rwayed  to  and  fro,  by  contending  passions,  like — 

Enter  Under   Prompter,  l. 

Under  P.  Sir,  the  scene  is  set,  and  every  thing  is  r&»- 
dy  to  begin,  if  you  please. 

Pujf.  'Egad,  then,  w«*ll  lose  no  time. 

Under  P.  Though,  I  believe,  sir,  you  will  find  it  very 
short,  for  all  the  performers  have  profited  by  the  kind  per- 
mission y<)u  granted  thera. 

P?yf.   Hey!  what? 

Under  P.  You  know,  sir,  you  gave  them  leave  to  cut 
out  or  omit  whatever  they  found  heavy  or  unnecessary  to 
the  plot,  and  I  must  own  they  have  taken  very  liberal  ad- 
vantage of  your  indulgence.  |  Exif  Under  P.,  l. 

Pvff.  Well,  well!  They  are  in  genejal  very  good  judg- 
es; and  1  know  I  am  luxuriant.  Gentlemen,  be  seated. 
[i5>n<rcr  and  Dangle  sit,  l.]  Now,  Mr.  Woodarch,  [  To  Lead- 
er of  the  Band,]  please  to  play  a  few  bars  of  something 
loft,  just  to  prepare  the  audience  for  the  curtain's  risino'. 
[The  Band  strike  "  Bohbing  Joan,'  very  forte. 

Puff.  [Having  stopped  them  with  much  difficulty.]  Nrw, 
really,  gentlemen,  this  js  unkind,  i  ask  you  to  play  a 
■oothing  air,  and  you  stiike  up  Bobbing  Joan  !  [  To  Sneer, 
ifc.]  These  gentlemen  will  have  their  joke  at  rehearsal, 
f)u  see.  [To  Orchestra.]  Come,  gentlemen,  oblige  me. 
[The  Band  play  a  few  bars  of  soft  music]  Aye,  that's 
rght — for  we  have  the  scenes  and  dresses;  egad,  we'll 
go  to  it,  as  if  it  was  the  first  night's  performance;  but  you 
need  r.ot  mind  stopping  between  the  acts  Soh  !  stknd 
clear,  gentlemen.  Now,  you  know  there  will  be  a  cry  of 
down  ! — d  »wn  ! — hats  ofT! — silence  ' — Then  tip  curtain — 
*nd  let  us  see  what  our  oainters  have  don©  ftir  u«- 


SW  TRK    CBlTit 


fAcT  U 


SoBJf  I    11. —  Tke  cuTtatn  rues,  and  dtscovrrt   PtlbHry  Fmrt 
Two  Sentinels  asleep  on  the  grtnind,  c. 

Dan.  Tilbury  Fori ! — very  fine,  indeed  f 

Puff.   Now,  what  do  you  think  I  open  with  I 

Sneer.   Faith,  I  can't  guess — 

Puff.  A  clock. 

Sneer.   A  clock  ! 

Puff.  Hark! — [Clock  strikes  four.]  I  open  with  a  clo<k 
striking,  to  beget  an  awful  attention  in  the  audience — it 
also  marks  the  time,  which  is  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  saves  a  description  of  the  rising  sun,  and  a  great  deal 
about  gilding  the  eastern  hemisphere. 

Dan.  But,  pray,  are  the  sentinels  to  be  asleep  t 

Puff.  Fast  as  watchmen. 

Sneer.  Isn't  that  odd,  th  >ugh,  at  such  an  alarming  cri- 
sis ? 

Puff.  To  be  sure  it  is  ;  but  smaller  things  must  give 
way  to  a  striking  scene  at  the  opening;  that's  a  rule.  And 
the  case  is,  that  two  great  men  are  coming  to  this  very 
spot  to  begin  the  piece;  now,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
they  would  open  their  lips,  if  these  fellows  were  watch- 
ing them  ;  so,  egad,  I  must  either  have  sent  them  off  tl»eir 
posts,  or  set  them  asleep. 

Sneer.  Oh,  that  accounts  for  it ! — But  tell  ub,  who  are 
these  coming? 

Puff.  These  T  They  are — Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and 
Sir  Christopher  Hatton.  You'll  know  Sir  Christopher, 
by  his  turning  out  his  toes — famous,  you  know,  for  his 
dancing.  I  like  to  preserve  all  the  little  traits  of  charac- 
ter.    Now,  attend. 

Enter   Sir   Christopher  Hatton   and  Sib  Walter  Ra 

LEIGH,  R. 

•  Sir  G.  True,  gallant  Raleigh!' 
Dan.  What,  had  they  been  talking  before  t 
Puff.  Oh,  yes  :  all  the  way  as  they  came  along.  1  beg 
pardon,  gentlemen,  [  To  the  Artnrs,\  but  these  are  parti 
t'llar  friends  of  mine.  Mr.  Sneer  and  Mr.  Dangle,  Mr- 
Keeley  and  Mr.  Meadows,  both  very  promising  genrlemen 
in  their  profession,  i  assure  you.  [The  Actors  take  off  theif 
katt.  and  h-»t>  very  low.\    I    know  it's   against  thn   rale  t« 


ri  J  TWl   C«ITTO  ti 

introduce  strangers  at  a  rehearsal,  but  as  they  are  parti- 
cular friends  of  mine,  I  thought  you  would  excuse.  Don't 
mind  interrupting  these  fellowa  when  any  thing  strikes 
you.  [  To  Sneer  and  Dangle. 

*  Sir  C.  True,  gallant  Raleigh ! 

'  But  oh,  thou  champion  of  thy  country's  fame, 
'  There  is  a  question  which  I  yet  must  asir  , 

*  A  question  which  1  never  asked  before. 
'  Wliat  mean  these  mighty  armaments  T 

This  general  muster?  and  this  throng  of  chiefs  V 
Sneer.    Pray,  Mr.  Puff,  how  came  Sir  Christopher  Hal 
ton  never  to  ask  that  question  before  ? 

Pujf.  What,  before  the  play  began  ?  How  the  plague 
could  he  ? 

Dan.  That's  true,  'ifaith  1 

Puf.  But  you  will  hear  what  he  thinks  of  the  matter. 
'  Sir  C.  Alas,  my  noble  friend,  when  1  behold' — 
PuJ".  [Interrupts  him.]  My  good  friend,  you  entirely 
forget  what  I  told  you  the  last  rehearsal — that  there  wa» 
a  particular  trait  in  Sir  Christopher's  character — that  he 
was  famous,  in  Queen  EHzabeth's  time,  for  his  dancing — 
pray,  turn  your  toes  cut.  [With  his  foot,  he  pushes  Sii 
C.'s/eet  out,  until  they  are  nearly ^square.\  That  will  do — 
now,  sir,  proceed. 

*  Sir  C.  Alas,  my  noble  friend,  when  I  behold 

*  Yon  tented  plains  in  martial  symmetry 

'  A nayed — when  I  count  o'er  yon  glittering  Hd«s 
'  Of  crested  warriors — 
'  When  briefly  all  I  hear  or  see  bears  stamp 
'  Of  martial  preparation,  and  stem  defence, 
'  I  cannot  but  surmise.     Forgive,  my  friend, 
'  If  the  conjecture's  rash' — 

PuJ".  [Interrupting.]  A  little  more  freedom, — if  yo» 
please.  Remember  that  Sir  Christopher  and  Sir  Waltw 
were  on  the  most  familiar  footing.     Now,  as  thus — 

[  Quotes  the  line  Jlijipantly. 

*  Sir  C.  [Imitates  his  manner.]  I  cai.not  but  8urmis« 

Forgive,  my  friend, 
If  the  conjecture's  rash — I  cannot  but 

*  Surmise — the  state  some  danger  apprehends  " 

Sneer.  A  very  cartious  coTijeciure  that! 
Puff.  Yes,  that's  his  cliaracrer ;   not  to  give  an  opinio*, 
lut  on  secure  gTou-»d8  —  Now,  then 


•©  fnjS     Cfi.r.C.  Krr    M 

Sif    W    Oh,  most  accompHshod  Christ;  >{ih«'r 
Puff.  Keep  up  the   Christopher  !     '  Oh,  most  accoa> 
pl'^hed  Christopher.'   He  calls  him  by  his  Christian  name, 
to  show  that  they  are  on  the  most  familiar  terms. 

'  Sir  W.  Oh,  most  accomplished  Christopher,  I  find 
'  Thy  fears  are  just. 

'  Sir  C.  But  where,   whence,  when,  what,  which,  ard 
whose, 

•  The  danger  is — methinks,  I  fain  would  learn. 

'  Sir  W.  You   know,  my  friend,  scarce  two  revolring 

suns' — 
Puff".  \ Stopping  htm.\  Suit  the  word  to  the  action^  and 
the  action  to  the  word. 
You  know,  my  friend,  scarce  two  revolving  suns.' 

\  Passes  his  hands  <me  over  the  other,  unth  a  cirrular 
motion. 
'Sir  W.  \  Using  the  same  action.\   Vou  know,  my  friend, 
scarce  two  revolving  suns. 
And  three  revolving  moons,' — 
Puff.    No,   no  :    send  your  moons  the   other    way,  <.n 
you'll  bring  about   an  eclipse  I    [Repeats   the.   samt  hne^ 
again  the  second  time,  turning  his  hands  tht  coTttrary  way 
'  Sir  W.  [  Using  Puffs  action.]  You  know,  my   frnnn  I. 

scarce  two  revolving  sun-a. 
And  three  revolving  moons,  have  closed  their  course. 
Since  haughty  Philip,  in  despite  of  peace, 
With  hostile  hand  hath  struck  at  England's  trad« 
'  Sir  G.  I  know  it  well 

•  Sir  W.  PhiHp,  you  know,  is  proud  Ibena's  kinj^ ' 
'  Sir  C.  He  is. 

•  Sir  W.  You  know,  beside,  his  boasted  armiimetiL 
The  famed  Armada,  by  the  Pope  baptized. 

With  purpose  to  invade  these  realms — 
'  Sir  C.  Is  sailed  ; 
Our  last  advices  so  report. 

*  Str  W.  While  the  Spanish  Admiral's  chief  hope, 
His  darling  son,  by  chance  a  prisoner  hath  been  ta'ea, 

•  And  in  this  fort  of  Tilbury* — 

Puff.  \Mocking  hts  tone.]  *  Tilbury  /'  Don't  speak  of 
Tilbury  Fori,  as  if  it  was  a  gin-shop !  Keep  up  its  cod 
sequence.     '  And  in  this  fort  of  Tilbury  /' 

[Sir  Walter  repeats  ihs  line  a,fter  Puffs  mannm 

*  Sir  C.  Is  now  «onfin«d. 


•cMB  ii.j  THE  owno.  TT 

'  Sir  TV.  You  also  know' — 

Dan.  Mr.  Puff,  as  he  know*  all  thia,  why  doe*  Sir  Wal- 
ter go  on  telling  him  ? 

FuJ".  But  the  audience  are  not  supposed  to  know  any 
thing  of  the  matter,  are  they  ? 

Sneer.  True,  but  I  think  you  manage  ill:  for  there  cer- 
tainly appears  no  reason  why  Sir  Walter  should  be  so 
communicative. 

Puff".  Foregad,  now,  that  is  one  of  the  most  ungrateful 
observations  1  evei  heard  ;  for  the  less  inducement  he  has 
to  tell  all  this,  the  more  I  think  you  ought  to  be  obliged 
to  him ;  for  I  am  sure  you'd  know  nothing  of  the  matter 
without  it. 

Dan.  That's  very  true,  upon  my  word. 
Pvff".  But  you  will  find  he  was  not  going  on. 
'  Sir  C.  Enough,  enough — 'tis  plain — and  I  no  more 
'  Am  in  amazement  lost  !' 

Puff.  Here,  now,  you  see,  Sir  Christopher  did  not,  ir 
fact,  ask  any  one  question  for  his  own  information. 

Sneer.  No,  indeed :  his  has  been  a  most  disinterested 
curiosity  I 

Dan.  Really,  I  find,  we  are  very  much  obliged  to  them 
both. 

Puff.  To  be  sure  you  are.  Now,  then,  for  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, the  Earl  of  Leicester !  who,  you  know, 
was  no  favourite  but  of  the  Queen's.  We  lefl  off  '  in 
amazement  lost  !' — 

*  Sir  C.  Am  in  amazement  lost. 
'  But  see  where  noble  Leicester  comes  I  supreme 
'  In  honours  and  command.* 

Sneer.  But  who  are  these  with  him  1 
Puff.  Oh  !  veiy  valiant  knights ;  one  is  the  governor  od 
Ae  fort,  the  other  the  master  of  the  horse.  And  now,  I 
think  you  shall  hear  some  better  language  :  I  was  obliged 
to  be  plain  and  intelligible  in  the  fii-st  scene,  because 
there  was  so  much  matter  of  fact  in  it;  but  now,  'ifaith, 
you  have  trope,  figure,  and  metaphor,  as  plenty  as  noun- 
eubstantives. 

Enter  Earl  or  Leicester,  Gotbrnob,  and  Mastbb  «f 
the  Horse,  &. 

'  Lei.  How's  this,  my  friends  I  ia't  thus  vour  new-fledf  < 
zeaJ 


V8  THE  cmTic. 


fAern 


•And  plun.^d  valour  moulds  in  roosted  ilolh  ? 
'  Why  dimly  glimmers  that  heroic  flame, 

*  Whoso  reddening  blaze,  by  patriot  spirit  fea. 
Should  be  tlie  beacon  of  a  kindling  realm  ? 

'  Can  the  quick  current  of  a  patriot  V.eart 

'  Thus  stagnate  in  a  cold  and  weedy  converse, 

Or  freeze  in  tideless  inactivity  ? 
'  No !  rather  let  the  fountain  of  your  valour 
■  Spring  through  each  stream  of  entei-prise, 
'  Each  petty  channel  of  conducive  danng, 
'  Till  the  full  torrent  of  your  foaming  wrath 

*  O'erwhelm  the  flats  of  sunk  hostility  !' 

Pu^.  [Runs  up  and  embraces  him.]  Allow  me  fo  intro 
duce  Mr.  Honebow  to  you — Mr.  Dangle  and  Mr.  Sneer. 

[Returns  to  l 
'  Sir  W.  No  more  !  the   fresliening  breath  of  thy  ro 
buke 
'  Hath  filled  the  swelling  canvass  of  our  souls  I 

*  And  thus,  though  fate  should  cut  the  cable  of 

■,  [All  take  hands. 

'  Our  topmost  hopes^  in  friendship's  closing  line, 

We'll  grapple  with  despair,  and  if  we  fall, 
'  We'll  fall  in  Glory's  wake  !  [  They  part  hands. 

•  Lei.  [Slo2cli/.]  There  ppoke  Old  England's  genius  !' 
Pyff.  No,  no,  sir :  Old  England's  genius  never  spoke 

in  that  way.     She  must  be  a  devilish  queer  genius  if  she 
did.     No,  sir,   keep  it  up.  [Quotes  with  heroic  bombast.] 
There  spoke  Old  England's  genius  !' 

•  Lei.  [With  P%Ps  manner.}    There  spoke  Old   Eng- 
land's genius  I 

'  Then,  are  we  all  resolved  1 
'  All.  We  are — all  resolved 
'  Lei.  To  conquer — or  be  free. 
'  All.  To  conquer— or  be  free. 

•  Lei.  All  t 

•  All.  AD  !• 

Dan.  Nem.  con.,  egad  I 

PuJ".  Oh,  yes,  where  they  do  agree  on  the  stage,  their 
rnanimity  is  wonderful. 

•  Lei.  Then, let's  embrace — [They  embrace,]  and  now' — 

F  Knerli 
Snfer.  Wha»  »he  plague,  ia  be  gomg  to  pray  t 


»cEiiB  II. j  THE  CRirrn.  29 

P«/.  Yea,  hush  !  In  great  errot^i-g^octe*,  tber«  iu  bo 
thing  like  a  prayer  I 

'Lei    Oh,  mighty  Mara  r 

PuJ.  Stop,  my  dear  sir!  Ytw  do  m^.  axpfid  U>  SdJ 
Mars  there.  No,  sir  :  whenever  you  addi-ese  the  g<xig,  *J 
ways  look  into  the  upper  gallery. 

*  Let.  [Looking  up  tc  the  galUry.  [  Oh,  mighty  Mars  V 
Dan    But  why  should  he  pray  to  Mars  t 

Fuff.  Hush! 

'  LeL  Oh,  mighty  Mars,  \i,  in  thy  homage  bred, 
'  Each  point  of  discipline  I've  still  observed  ; 
'  Nor  but  by  due  promotion,  and  the  right 
'  Of  service,  to  the  rank  of  Major-Oeneral 
'  Have  iTsen  ;' — 

Pnff.  Keep  up  the  Major-General !  [Repeatt  the  Urn 
unthforce.\  ♦  To  the  rank  of  Mayor-General  have  risen!' 
Tip  them  the  Major-General,  pray. 

•  Lei.  [After  Puff's  Tnanner^    To  the  rank  of  Major- 

General 
'  Have  risen  ;  assist  thy  votary  now  I 

'  Gov.  [Kneelt  on  Leicester' t  a.)   Yet  do  not  rise— hear 
me  I 

*  Mast,  of  H.  [Kneels  on  Governor's  R.J  And  me  I 

•  Sir  W.  [Kneels  on  Leicester's  R,j  And  me  I 

•  Sir  C.  [Kneels  on  Sir  W.'s  L.l  And  me  I' 

Puff.  [Kneels,  L.j  And  me!  Now,  mind  your  hits i-- 
pray  all  together. 

*  All.  Behold  thy  votaries  submissive  beg, 

•  That  thou  wrilt  deign  to  grant  them  all  they  ask  ;'— 

Pvff.  No,  no,  gentlemen,  the  emphasia  is  upon  th« 
word  all.     Thus  : 

'  Behold  thy  votaries  submissive  beg. 

'  That  thou  wilt  deign  to  giant  them  aU  they  ask  f 
Now,  gentlemen. 

'  All.  Behold  thy  votaries  submissive  beg. 
That  thou  wilt  deign  to  grant  them  all  they  ask ; 
'  Assist  them  to  accomplish  all  their  ends, 
'  And  sanctify  whatever  means  they  use 
'  To  gain  them  !' 

Sneer.  A  very  orthodox  quiiitetto ! 

Puff.  Vastly  well,  gentlemen,  indeed  for  persons  wh« 
are  not  much  in  the  habit  of  praying,     ts  that  wal'  auu»- 


mB  ntn-Kj.  I  act  u 

Ag«Kt  or  not  )  I  rKsb««ve  jaa  havmi't  anrb  «  prayer  as  that 
(^«n  the  stage. 

Sneer    Not  exactly 

L«.  [  To  Puff.]  But,  sir,  you  haven't  settled  how  we 
are  to  get  off  here. 

Puff.  You  could  Qot  go  off  kneeling,  could  you  1 

Lei.  Ob,  no,  sir,  impossible  \ 

Puff.  It  would  have  a  g«xHl  effect,  'ifaith,  if  you  could 
•'exeunt  praying!"  Ves,  and  would  vary  the  established 
mode  of  springing  off  with  a  glance  at  the  pit 

Sneer.  Oh,  never  mind :  so  as  you  get  them  off,  I'll  an 
•wet  for  it,  the  audience  won't  care  how 

Puff.  Well,  then,  repeat  the  last  line  standing,  and  go 
off  the  old  way. 

'  All.  And  sanctify  whatever  means  we  use  to  gain 
them.'  I  Exeunt,  a 

Dan.    Bravo  I  a  fine  exit 

Snuet.  Stay  a  moment 

The  SRNTiNBi.a  get  up 

*  lit.  Sen.  All  this  shall  to  Lord  Burleigh's  eat. 

*  2d.  Sen.  'Tis  meet  it  should.'       ( Exeunt  Sentinels,  a 
Dan.   Hey  I— why,  1  thought  those  ffellows   had   beet 

asleep  Y 

Puff.  Only  a  pretence;  there's  the  an  of  it;  they  were 
spies  of  Lord  Burleigh's.  But  take  care,  my  dear  Dan 
gle,  the  morning  gun  is  going  to  fire. 

Dan.  Well,  that  will  have  a  fine  effect. 

Puff.  1  think  so,  and  helps  to  realize  the  scene.  |  Can^ 
Hon,  three  ttmea  from  battery,  L.j  What  the  plague ! — 
three  morning  guns ! — there  never  is  but  one  I  Aye,  this 
is  always  the  way  at  the  theatre — give  these  fellows  a 
good  thing,  and  they  never  know  when  to  have  done  with 
it.     You  have  no  more  cannon  to  fire  ? 

Prump.  \Fro7n  within,  L.J  No,  sir. 

Puff   Now,  then,  for  soft  music 

Sneer.   Pray  what's  that  for  I 

Puff'.  It  shows  that  TUburina  is  coming  ;  nothing  intn> 
duces  you  a  heroine  like  soft  music      Here  she  cornea. 

Dan.  And  her  confidant,  1  suppose  I 

Puff  To  be  sure:  here  they  are — inconsolable— to  tJii 
minuet  in  Ariadne  \  |  Sq/l  mutxc  ♦•  Chchx$ir«. 


lecKB  U.|  fVR    AtiTlc  tl 

Enief  TiLBORiNA  and  Conj  »  <.nt,  \ 

*  Til.  Now  flowers  unfold  their  beauties  U)  »,I»e  «ua. 
And  blushing,  kisa  the  beam  he  sends  t,o  wake  ther" 
TLe  striped  carnation,  and  the  guarded  rose, 

'"'ho  vulgar  wall-flower,  and  smart  gilly-flowor, 

■^he  polyanthus  mean — the  dapper  daisy, 

Sweet  William,  and  sweet  marionjm — and  all 

The  tribe  ol"  single  and  of  douole  pinks ! 

Now,  too,  the  feathered  warblers  tune  their  ootes 

Around,  and  charm  the  listening  jgrove — The  lark  ! 

The  linnet !  chaffinch  I  bullfinch  I  goldfinch  I  greenfinch 

—  But,  oh  !  to  me  no  joy  can  they  afford  I 

Nor  rose,  nor  wall-flower,  nor  smart  gilly-flower, 

Nor  polyanthus  mean,  nor  dapper  daisy, 

Nor  William  sweet,  nor  marjorum — nor  lark. 

Linnet,  nor  all  the  finches  of^the  grovel* 

Pu^.  [Holding  hi»  handkerchief  to  hu  eyea.\  S 00.1 
white  handkerchief,  madam — there,  if  you  please. 

Til.  I  thought,  air,  1  waan't  to  use  thai  'till  '  aetrv 
rending  woe.' 

Puff.  Oh,  yo*.  madacD — ai  the  6iiche«  of  ih©  grofre,'  \l 
you  please, 

'  Til.  —Nor  lark, 
Lmnet,  nor  all  the  finches  o(  the  gruv*  t'  \  ti^«cpa> 

Ptiff.   Vastly  well,  madam  I 

Dan.    Vastly  well,  uideed  ! 

'  Til.   For,  oh,  too  sure,  hean-rwndlng  won  \»  qpw 
The  lot  of  wretched  Tilburina!' 

Dan.  Oh  !   'tis  too  much.. 

Sneer.  Oh! — it  is,  indeed. 

•  Con.  (r.)  Be  comforted,  swoel  lady — ibr  wao  know*, 
But  Heaven  has  yet  some  milk-white  day  in  siam. 

'  Tit.  Alaa,  my  youthflil — gentle  N»)ra, 
'  Thy  tender  youth  as  yet  hath  never  moumed 
Love's  fatal  dan. 

'  Con.   But  see  where  yuux  ftem  father  comefl  j 
It  ifl  not  meet  that  he  should  find  yi>u  thus.' 

Puff.  Hey,  what  the  plague  I  what  a  cut  u  Here  \ — 
why,  what  ia  become  of  the  description  of  her  first  cnef^ 
ing  with  \)jn  Whiskerundv/s  !  his  gailaut  behavwuiu  lq  ui« 
•ea-figbt,  and  the  simile  of  cae  ouiary  bird  I 


32  TUB   CRiTia  fAcT  11 

Til.  Indeed,  sir,  you'U  Bnd  they  will  nut  be  missed. 

Puff".  Very  well — very  well ! 

Til.  The  cue,  ma'am,  if  you  please. 

•  Con.  It  is  not  meet  that  he  should  find  you  thus. 

*  TU.  Thou  counsel'st  right,  but  'tis  no  easy  task 

•  For  barefaced  grief  to  wear  a  mask  of  joy. 

Enter  Governor,  b. 

*  Gov.  How's  this — in  tears  ?— O — ' 
Puf.  There's  a  round  O  !  for  you. 
Sneer.  A  capital  O  / 

♦  Gov.  Tilburina,  shame  ! 

'  Is  this  a  time  for  maudlin  tenderness, 

'  And  Cupid's  baby  woes  1 — hast  thou  not  heard 

•  That  haughty  Spain's  Pope-consecrated  fleet 
Advances  to  our  shores,  while  England's  fate, 

'  Like  a  clipped  guinea,  trembles  in  the  scale ! 

*  Til.  [Seizing  Governor's  hand.]  Then,  is  the  crisis  if 

my  fate  at  hand  ! 
I  see  the  fleet's  approach — 1  see' — 
Puff.  Now,  pray,  gentlemen,  mind.    This  is  one  of  the 
most  useful  figures  we  tragedy-writers  have,  by  which  a 
hero  or  heroine,   in  consideration  of  their  being   often 
obliged  tQ  overlook  things  that  are  on  the  stage,  is  allowed 
to  hear  and  see  a  number  of  things  that  ai'e  not. 
Sneer.  Yes ;  a  kind  of  poetical  second-sight  1 
Puff.  Yes. — Now,  then,  madam. 

•  Til.  — I  see  their  decks 

Are  cleared  1 — I  see  the  signal  made  1 
The  line  is  fbrmed ! — a  cable's  length  asunder  1 
'  I  see  the  frigates  stationed  in  the  rear ; 

•  And  now,  I  hear  the  thunder  of  the  guns  1 

•  I  hear  the  victor's  shouts — I  also  hear 

The  ranquished  groan — and  now  'tis  smoke — and  now 
I  see  the  loose  sails  shiver  in  the  wind ! 

•  I  »ee— I  see— what  soon  you'll  see* — 

\Swoons  in  the  Governor' $  armt 
Puff,  [/n  rapture,  talcing  Tilburina't  hand.]  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
Allow  me  to  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Dangle  and  Mr.  Sneer. 
This  is  Mrs.  Gibbs,  one  of  the  very  best  actresses  on  the 
itage,  I  assure  you,  gentlemen. 

♦  Got:.  Hold,  daughter  !  peace  I  this  love  bath  turned 

thy  brain  : 


tccKt  I]  .  TUB   CEJTIC.  33 

*  The  SpanUh  fleet  thou  cans't  Dot  see-— because 
—It  is  not  yet  in  sight  V 

Dan.  Egad,  though,  the  Governor  seems  to  make  no 
allowance  for  this  poetical  figure  you  talk  of. 

Puf.  No ;  a  plain  matter-of-fact  man ;  that's  his  cha- 
racter. 

*  7y.  But  will  you,  then,  refuse  his  offer  ? 

*  Gov.  I  must — I  will — I  can — I  ought— I  da 

*  Til.  His  liberty  is  all  he  asks.* 
Puff".  His  liberty  is  all  he  asks.' 

Sneer.  All  who  asks,  Mr.  Puff"  J — Who  is — ^he  ? 

PuJ^.  Egad,  sir,  I  can't  telL  Here  has  been  such  cu^ 
ting  and  slashing,  I  don't  know  where  they  have  got  to 
myself 

Til.  Indeed,  sir,  you  will  find  it  will  connect  very  well 

*  Til.  A  retreat  in  Spain ! 

*  Gov.  Outlawi-y  here  ! 

*  7HI.  Your  daughter's  prayer  ! 

*  Gov.  Your  father's  oath  ! 

*  TU.  My  lover ! 

*  Gov.  ^Iy  country  I 

*  Til.  Tilburina  I 

*  Gov.  England ! 

*  TU.  A  title  ! 

*  Gov,  Honour  ! 

*  T\l.  A  pension ! 

'  Gov.  Conscience ! 

*  Til.  A  thousand  pounds  ! 

'  Gov.  [Starts.]  Hah  !  thou  hast  touched  me  nearly  I 

*  Til.  Canst  thou — 

'  Reject  the  suppliant,  and  the  daughter,  too  ? 

*  Gov.  No  more ;  I  would  not  hear  thee  plead  in  vain ; 
'  The  Jather  softens — but  the  Governor — 

•  Is  resolved  !  [About  to  exit. 

Puff.  My  dear  sir,  give  that  a  little  more  force,  if  you 
please — '  but  the  Govei-nor's  resolved  V 

*  Gov.  [Imitating  Puff's  manner.]  The  father  softens- - 

but  the  governor 
Is  resolved  !  [Exit,  quickly,  l 

*  TU.  'Tis  well — hence,  then,  fond  hopes — ford  passio* 

hence  ; 
Duty,  behold  1  am  all  over  thiuo^- 


3%  THft    CfclTiC.  ,Avi  li 

■  Whis   [  \VuhotLt,tA  \V~here  is  rny  love — my — behind  I 
Puf.   My  whal  I— Wliat's  that,  Mr.  Peisont 

Enter  Whib&erandos,  a. 

Puff.   Have  the  goodnesn  to  let  me  hear  that  line  again. 

*  Whis.  Where  is  my  love—  my  behind  ]' 

Puf.  No,  no,  sir! — •  Wherj*  is  my  love — my — behin-J 
the  scenes' — spoken  behind  the  scer<». 

Whis.  Oh,  I  beg  pardon,  sir,  but  I  assure  you  it  if 
written  bo  in  ray  part.  \Exit,  R. — PuJ^  cra-oe»  t^  Sneef 
and  Dangle. 

Enter  Wuiskerandos,  r. 

*  Whis.  (r.)  Where  is  my  love — my — beauteous  enem^ 
'  My  conquering  Tilburina  I     How!  is'i  thus 

'  We  meet  1  Why  are  thy  looks  averse  ?   What  means 
That  falling  tear — that  firown  of  boding  woe  ? 
Hah  !  now,  indeed,  I  am  a  prisoner ! 

'  Yes,  now  I  feel  the  galling  weight  of  these 

•  Disgraceflil  chains — which,  cruel  Tilburina  ! 

*  Thy  doating  captive  gloried  in  before. 

'  But  thou  art  false,  and  Whiskerandos  is  undoiio  ! 

'  TW.  Oh,  no ;  how  little  dost  thou  know  thy  Tilburina 

*  Whis.  Art  thou,  then,  true  ?     Begone  cares,  doubta 

and  fears, 
'  1  make  you  all  a  present  to  the  winds  ; 
And  if  the  winds  reject  you — try  the  waves.' 
Puff.  The  wind,  you  know,  is  the  established  receiver 
•f  all  stolen  sighs,  and  cast-off  gi-iefs  and  apprehensions, 

*  Til.  Yet  must  we  part  t — Stem  duty  seals  our  doon> 
'  Though  here  I  call  yon  conscious  clouds  to  witness, 

'  Could  I  pursue  the  bias  of  my  soul, 

'  AD  fiiendfl,  all  rights  of  parents  I'd  disclaim, 

♦  And  thou,  my  Whiskerandos,  should'st  be  father 
'  And  mother,  brother,  cousin,  uncle,  aunt, 

'  And  friend  to  me  ! 

*  Whis.  Oh,  matchless  excellence  I  And  must  we  pan  1 
■  Well,  iP—we  must — we  must — and  in  that  case 

'  The  less  is  said  the  better.* 

Puff.  Heyday  !  here's  a  cut  I— What !  are  all  the  m\i 
tual  pr  iteslations  oull 

Til  Now,  pray.  sir.  don't  interrupt  us  jmit  here;  yuo 
uirt  t;ur  feelings  ! 


«cE*i  II. I  THB    C-UITIC  3t 

Puff,  Your  feelings! — but  zounds,  my  fpelings.  ma'am* 
'  Whig,  (r.)  One  last  embrace. 

*  Til.  (l.)  Now — farewell  for  ever  I 

*  Whis.   For  ever  ! 

*  Til.  Aye,  for  ever  '  ( Going,  n.  and  l. 
Puff.  S'death  and  fury  !— Gadslife  !    Sir!      Madam,   1 

really  can't  suffer  this — if  you  go  out  without  the  parting 
look,  you  might  as  well  dance  out — Here  ! 

'  For  ever!  Aye,  for  ever  !' 
Holding  forth  Ms  arms,  as  to  embrace  ^^  Give  them  the  last 
puff  of  your  tragedy  bellows  ! 

'  Whis.  \  With  arms  extended.]  For  ever  !  Oh  I 

*  Til.  Aye,   for  ever,  oh  1*  [They  rush  into  each  other' t 

arms,  then  reluctantly  part  and  exeunt,  Whiskeran- 
dos,  R.,  Tilhurina,  L. 

Con.  But  pray,  sir,  how  am  I  to  get  ofl'  here  ? 

Puff.  You !  pshaw  !  what  the  devil  signifies  how  you 
get  offl  \Pushes  the  Confidant  off,  b. — Drop  scene  lowers  ; 
Snetr  and  Dangle  rise, 

Dan.  Oh,  charming  I 

Puff.  Hey  ! — 'tis  pretty  well,  1  believe.  You  see,  J 
don't  attempt  to  strike  out  any  thing  new — but  I  take  it 
I  improve  on  the  established  modes. 

Enter  Under  Prompter,  l. 

Under  P.  Sir,  the  cai-penter  says  it  is  impossible  you 
can  go  to  the  Park  scene  yet. 

Puff.  The  Park  scene !  No — I  mean  the  description 
scene  here,  in  the  wood. 

Under  P.  Sir,  the  performers  have  cut  it  out. 

Puff.  Cut  it  out ! 

Under  P.  Yes,  sir. 

Puff.  What !  the  whole  account  of  Queen  Elizabeth  1 

Under  P.  Yes,  sir. 

Puff.  And  the  description  of  her  horse  and  side-saddle  1 

Under  P.  Yes,  sir. 

Puff.  So,  so,  this  is  very  fine,  indeed !  Mr.  Prompter, 
how  the  plague  could  you  suffer  this  ? 

Prompter.  \From  within,  L.j  Sir,  indeed,  the  pruning 
knife — 

Puff.  The  pruning  knife— zounds  1  the  axel  Why, 
heie  ha«  been  snrh  lopping  and  topping,      shan't  have  th» 


36  THK    CRITIC. 


lAcr  n 


bare  trunk  of  ni)  play  left  presently.  Very  well,  sir — 
the  peiforraers  must  do  as  they  please;  but,  upon  my 
soul,  I'll  print  it  every  word. 

Sneer.  Tha:  I  would,  indeed. 

Pu^.  Very  well,  sir — then,  we  must  go  on.  [Exit  Un- 
der Prompter,  l.]  Well,  now,  if  the  scene  is  ready — we'll 
go  on.  [  The  Drop  scene  rises,  and  discovers  a  Wood  scene. 
A  carpet  spread  on  the  stage,  and  a  chair  in  the  centre.]  So, 
now  for  my  mysterious  yeoman. 

Enter  a  Beefeater,  l.  s.  b. 

•  Beef.  Perdition  catch  my  soul,  but  I  do  love  thee  !* 
Sneer.  Haven't  I  heard  tliat  line  before]  * 
Puf^.  No,  I  fancy  not.     Where,  pray  1 

Dan.  Yes,  I  think  there  is  something  like  it  in  "  Othel- 
lo." 

P^iff^.  Gad  !  now  you  put  me  in  mind  on't,  1  believe 
there  is — but  that's  of  no  consequence — all  that  can  be 
said  is,  that  two  people  happened  to  hit  on  the  same 
thought — and  Shakspeare  made  use  of  it  firnt,  that's  all. 

Sneer.  Very  true. 

Puff".  Now,  sir,  your  soliloquy — but  speak  more  to  the 
pit,  if  you  pletise— the  soliloquy  always  to  the  pit — that*i 
a  rule. 

*  Be^.  Though  hopeless  love  finds  comfort  in  despair, 
It  never  can  endure  a  rival's  bliss  ! 

•  But  soft' — 

Ptiff".  Put  your  finger  to  your  head  when  you  say  thai 
—and  don't  gallop  off—steal  cautiously  off. 

'  BeeJ".  But  soft — I  am  obsei-ved.' 

[Exit  Beefeater,  stealthily,  R. 

Dan.  That's  a  very  shoit  soliloquy. 

Puff.  Yes — but  it  would  have  been  a  great  deal  longer 
if  he  had  not  been  observed. 

Sneer.  A  most  sentimental  Beefeater  that,  Mr.  PufH 

Pvtff".  Harkye — I  would  not  have  you  to  be  too  sure 
that  he  is  a  Beefeater. 

Sneer.   What,  a  hero  in  disguise  ] 

Puff.  No  matter — I  only  give  you  a  hint.  But  now  for 
my  pnncij)al  character — here  he  comes — Lord  Burleigh 
in  person  !  Pray,  gentlemen,  step  this  way — softly — i 
only  hope  the  Lord  High  Treasurer  is  perfect  —if  he  ia 
but  perfWcl  \ 


fCBKE  II.)  THE    CRITIC.  3? 

Enter  Burleigh,  l.  s  b.,  goes  slowly  to  the  chait  and  s%tt. 

Sneer.  Mr.  Puff! 

PuJ".  Hush !  vastly  well,  sir !  vastly  well  I  a  most  in- 
teresting gravity  ! 

Dan.  What,  isn't  he  to  speak  at  all  1 

Puff.  Egad,  I  thought  you'd  ask  me  that.  Yes,  it  is  a 
very  likely  thing,  that  a  minister  in  his  situation,  with  the 
whole  affairs  of  the  nation  on  his  head,  should  have  time 
to  talk  !     But  hush  !  or  you'll  put  him  out. 

Sneer.  Put  him  out !  how  the  plague  can  that  be,  if 
he's  not  going  to  say  anything  ? 

Puff.  There's  a  reason  !  Why,  his  part  is  to  think  :  and 
how  the  plague  do  you  imagine  he  can  think^  if  you  keep 
talking  ? 

Dan.  That's  very  true,  upon  my  word  ! 

[Burleigh  comes  forward,  c,  shakes  his  head. 

Puff.  Shake  your  head  more — more — damn  it,  man, 
hake  your  head  as  if  there  was  something  in  it. 

\Burleigh  shakes  his  head  extravagantly,  and  exit,  r. 

Sneer.  He  is  very  perfect,  indeed.  Now,  pray  what 
did  he  mean  by  that? 

Puff.  You  don't  take  it  ? 

Sneer.  No,  I  don't,  upon  my  soul 

Puff.  Why,  by  that  shake  of  the  head,  he  gave  you  to 
understand,  that  even  thou^  they  had  more  justice  in 
their  cause,  and  wisdom  in  their  measures,  yet,  if  there 
tvas  not  a  gi-eater  spirit  shown  on  the  part  of  the  people, 
-ne  country  would  at  last  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the  hostile  am- 
>ition  of  the  Spanish  monarchy. 

Sneer.  The  devil ! — Did  he  mean  all  that  by  shaking  hii 
Head  ? 

Puff.  Every  word  of  it— if  he  shook  his  head  as  I 
tiught  him. 

Sneer.  Oh,  here  are  some  of  our  old  acquaintance 

Enter  Hatton  and  Raleigh,  r. 
*  Str  C.  My  niece,  and  your  niece,  too ! 
By  Heaven  !   there's  witchcraft  in't.     He  could  not  else 
Have  gained  their  hearts.   But  see  where  they  approach 
Somo'liorrid  purpose  lowering  on  their  brows! 
'  Str  IV.    Let  us  withdraw,  and  mark  them. 

(  They  rttirt  up. 


38  rut  rmiTic,  (act  d 

Enlei  ihi  Tw('  NiECEB.  a.  a%d  t. 

'  Ut.  Nie    {\..}   Ellena  hero  ! 

•  But  Bee  the  proud  destroyer  of  my  peace. 

'  Revenge  is  all  the  good  I've  left  [Aside. 

'  2d  Nie.  (r.)  He  comes,  the  false  disturber  of  my  quie* 

•  Now,  vengeance,  do  ihy  work  !'  [Aside. 

Enter  Whiskeranuos,  l.  s.  e. 

'  Whis.  Oh,  hateful  libeity — if  thus  in  vain 
I  seek  my  Tilburina  ! 

•  Both  Net.   And   ever  shalt  !   [Sir  Christopher  and  Sit 

Walter  cofucjbrward,  r.  and  L. 

•  Sir  G.  Sf  Sir  \V.  Hold  !   we  will  avenge  you. 

•  Whts.  Hold  you — or  see  your  n'eces  bleed.* 

[The   two  Nieces  draw   their  two   daggers  to  strikt 
Whisherandos  ;  the  two  Uncles,  at  the  instant,  with 
their  two  swords  drawn,  catch  their  two  Nieces'  arms^ 
and  turn   the  points  of  their  swords  to  Whiskeran- 
dos,  who  iinrnediatehj  draws  two  daggers,  and  holds 
them  t(  the  two  Nieces'  bosoms. 
Pyff.    There's    situation    for   you !     there's   an    heroic 
gfroup !      You  see,   the  ladies  can't  stab  Whiskernndos — 
be  durst  not  strike  them  for  fear  of  their  uncles — the  un- 
cles durst  not   kill  him  because  of  their   nieces.     1   have 
them  all   at  a  dead  lock  !  for  eveiy  one  of  them  is  afiaid 
to  let  go  first. 

Sneer.  Why,  then,  they  must  stand  there  for  ever. 
Puff.  So  they  would,  if  I  hadn't  a  very  fine  contrivanc«3 
for't.     Now,  mind — Beef  I 

Enter  Beefeater,  with  his  halherd,  r. 

'  Beef.  In  the  Queen's  name,  I  charge  you  all  to  drop 
'  Your  swords  and  daggers  !' 

[  They  drop  their  swords  and  daggers. 
Sneer.  That  is  a  contrivance,  indeed. 
Puff".  Aye — in  the  Queen's  name. 
'  Sir  C.  Come,  niece  ! 
'  Sir  W.  Come,  niece  ! 

[Exeunt  with  the  two  Niece* ,  k.  and  i, 
W his.  (i  .)    VVIiat's  he.  who  bids  us  thus  reritMinc©  ouj 


V 


ard? 


ir«>B  II. I  TH«   CBITIO  3J» 

'  Beef,  (b.)  Thou  roust  do  more!  renounoe  thy  lo*ef 

'  Whis.  Thou  Uest,  base  Beefbater  f 
'Beef  Hal   Hell!  thoUe! 
'  By  Heaven,  thou'st  roused  the  lion  in  my  heart  I 

*  Off.  yeoman's  habit !  base  disguise  !  off  I  off! 

\Discovera  himself ,  by  throwing  off  his  upper  dre*j 
and  appearing  in  a  very  fine  shape  drett. 

*  Am  I  a  Beefeater  now  T 

*Or  beams  ray  crest  as  terrible  as  when 
'  In  Biscay's  Bay  I  took  thy  captive  sloop  ? 

•  Whis.  I  thank  thee,  fortune  1  that  hast  thus  bestowed 
'  A  weapon  to  chastise  this  insolent. 

f  Takes  up  one  of  tht  swords. 

•  Beef  1  take  thy  challenge,  Spaniard,  and  I  thank 

'  Thee,  fortune,  too!  \Takes  up  the  other  sword. 

'  Whis.  Vengeance  and  Tilbui-ina  I 

'  Beef.  Exactly  so !    [  They  fight,  and,  after  the  usuai 
number  of  wounds  given,  W his kerandos  falls. 

'  Whis.  Oh,  cursed  parry  1     The  last  thrust  in  tierc* 

*  Was  fatal  I     Captain,  thou  hast  fenced  well  I 
'  And  Whiskerandos  quits  this  bustling  scene 

'  For  all  eter — 

Beef.  — nity,  he  would  have  added,  but  stern  death'— 
Puff.  Oh,  my  dear  sir,  you  are  too  slow  :  now   mind 
me.     Sir,  shall  I  trouble  you  to  die  again  1 

Whis.  Certainly,  sir  !     '  And  Whiskerandos  quits  this 
bustUng  scene 
For  all  eter —  [B/)lls  himself  up  tn  the  carpet. 

'  Beef.  — nity,  he  would  have  added' — 
Puff.  No,  sir,  that's  not  it :  once  more,  if  you  please, 
4nd  I'll  kiU  you  myself 

Whis.  [  Unrolling  himself.]  I  wish,  sir,  you  would  prac 
tice  this  without  me  :  I  can't  stay  dying  here  all  night 

\Exit,  L. 
Puff  Very  well,  we'll  go  over  it   oy  and  by.         musl 
humour  these  gentlemen  ! 

•  Beef.  Farewell,  brave  Spaniard  1  and  when  next' — 
Puff.  Dear  sir,  you  needn't  speak  that  speech,  as  th» 

body  has  walked  off. 

Beef.  That's  true,  sir ;  then  I'll  join  the  fleet. 

Puff    If  you  oJeajie.   \Exit  f^e/eater  \    Now.  ent««r  Tit 


40  THE   CRITIC. 


lAcvtl 


Sneer.  Egad,  the  business  comes  on  quick  hero. 

PuJ".  Yes,  sir :  now  she  comes  in  slai  k  mad,  in  whiu 
satin. 

Sneer.  Why  in  white  satin  1 

Puff.  Oh,  Lord,  sir,  when  a  heroine  goes  mad,  she  al- 
ways goes  into  white  satin — don't  she,  Dangle  ? 

Dan.  Always — it's  a  rule. 

Puff.  Yes,  here  it  is.  \Looking  at  the  book.\  '  Entei 
Tilbunna,  stark  mad,  in  white  satin,  and  her  Confidant, 
;tark  mad,  in  white  linen.* 

Enter  Tilburina  and  Confidant,  r.,  mad,  according  to 
custom. 

Sneer.  But  what  the  deuce !  ia  the  Confidant  to  bo  mad. 
too? 

Puff.  To  be  sure  she  is :  the  Confidant  is  alwaya  to  do 
whatever  her  mistress  does;  weep  when  she  weeps, 
smile  when  she  smiles,  go  mad  when  she  goes  mad.  Now, 
madam  Confidant — but  keep  your  madness  in  the  back- 
ground, if  you  please. 

•  Til.  The  wind  whistles — the  moon  rises — \  Screams, 
see. 
They  have  killed  my  squirrel  in  his  cage  !—       [Kneel*. 
Is  this  a  grasshopper  1 — Ha !  no,  it  is  my 
*  Whiskerandos.     1:^m  shall  not  keep  him — 
'  1  know  you  have  him  in  your  breeches  pocket— 
'  An  oysfer  may  be  crossed  in  love  ! — Who  says 
'A  whale's  a  bird? — Ha!  did  you  call,  my  love? — 
'  He's  here  ! — He's  there  ! — He's  every  where  I— 
'  Ah  me  !  he's  no  where  I'  \Exit  Tilburina,  R. —  The  Con- 
fidant imitates  Tilburina,  and  exit,  R. 

Puff.  There  !  do  you  ever  desire  to  see  any  body  mad- 
der than  that  ? 

Sneer.  Never,  while  I  hve  I  And,  pray,  what  becomei 
of  her  ? 

Puff.  wShe  is  gone  to  throw  herself  into  the  sea,  to  ba 
sure — and  that  brings  us  at  once  to  the  scene  of  acticn, 
and  so  to  my  catastrophe — my  sea-fight,  I  mean. 

Sneer.   VYhat,  you  bring  that  in  at  last  ? 

Puff.  Yes,  yes  ;  you  know  my  play  is  uilleJ,  the  Spa 
mish  Aitnada,  othorv^'ise,  e^acl,  1  have  no  occa^sion  fof  th« 


■csm  II.J  T1H'    CEiTIC.  41 

battle  at  all.     Now,  then,  fbr  my  magnificence  t  my  bat- 
tle !  my  nuise  !  and  my  pKKession  I     You  are  all  ready  1 
Promp.  \  Within,  lJ  Yes,  sir, 

Puf.  Very  well.     Now,  then,  change  the  scene,  and 
tJMn  for  our  grand  display. 

I  The  scene  changes  to  a  view  of  the  Spanish  Armada, 

in  close  action  with  the  British  Jleet.     Music  play.* 

**  Britons  strike  home."     Spanish  fleet  destroyed  hy 

/ire-ships  ifc.     English  fleet  advances — Music  play$ 

"  Rule  Britannia"    During  this  scene.  Puff dirert* 

and  applauds  everything  :  then,\ 

Wei),   pretty  well — but  not  quite  periect ;  bo,  ladies  and 

^ntlemen,  if  you  please,  we'll  rehearse  this  piece  again 

on  the  first  opportunity.  [Curtain  drops. 

Di8P08ITION  OF  THB  CHARACTERS  AT  THE  FALI  OF  THi 
CURTAIN 

».  Pwr  SwBB*  Danm.^  (a. 


The  Return  of  Hi  Jinks 

A  comedy  in  four  acts,  by  Marion  Short,  author  of  "The  Varsity 
Coach,"  "The  TouchDovvn,"  etc.  6  males,  8  females.  Costumes 
modern.     One  interior  scene. 

This  comedy  is  founded  upon  and  elaborated  from  a  farce  comedy 
wn  two  acts  written  by  J.  H.  Horta,  and  originally  produced  at  Tuft's 
College. 

Hiram  Poynter  Jinks,  a  Junior  in  Hoosic  College  (Willie  Collier 
type),  and  a  young  moving  picture  actress  (Mary  Pickford  type),  are 
ihe  leading  characters  in  this  lively,  modern  farce. 

Thomas  Hodge,  a  Senior,  envious  of  the  popularity  of  Jinks,  wishes 
to  think  up  a  scheme  to  throw  ridicule  upon  him  during  a  visit  of 
the  Hoosic  Glee  Club  to  Jinks's  home  town.  Jinl-s  has  obligingly  acted 
as  a  one-day  substitute  in  a  moving  picture  play,  in  which  there  is  a 
fire  scene,  and  this  gives  Hodge  his  cue.  He  sends  what  seems  to 
be  a  bona  fide  account  of  Jink's  heroism  at  a  Hoosic  fire  to  Jink's 
horne  paper.  Instead  of  repudiating  his  laurels  as  expected.  Jinks 
decides  to  take  a  flyer  in  fame,  confirms  the  fake  story,  confesses  to 
being  a  hero  and  is  adored  by  all  the  girls,  to  the  chagrin  and  dis. 
comfiture  of  Hodge.  Of  course,  the  truth  comes  out  at  last,  but 
Jinks  is  not  hurt  thereby,  and  his  romance  with  Mimi  Mayflower 
comes  to  a  successful  termination. 

This  is  a  great  comedy  for  amateurs.  It  is  full  of  funny  situations 
and  13  sure  to  please.  Price,  30  Cents. 


June 


A  most  successful  comedy-drama  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Dorati, 
author  of  "The  New  Co-Ed,"  "Tempest  and  Sunshine,"  "Dorothy's" 
Neighbors,"  etc.  4  males,  8  females.  One  interior  scene.  Costumes 
modern.     Plays  2]/^  hours. 

This  play  has  a  very  interesting  group  of  young  people.  June  is 
an  appealmg  hrtle  figure,  an  orphan  living  with  her  aunt.  There  are 
a  number  of  delightful,  life-like  characters:  the  sorely  tried  likeable 
Mrs.  Hopkins,  the  amusing,  haughty  Miss  Banks  of  the  glove  depart- 
ment, the  lively  Tilly  and  Milly,  who  work  in  the  store,  and  ambitious 
Snoozer;  Mrs.  Hopkins's  only  son,  who  aspires  to  be  President  of  the 
United  States,  but  finds  his  real  sphere  is  running  the  local  trolley 
car.  The  play  is  simplicity  itself  in  the  telling  of  an  every-dar  story, 
and  the  scenic  requirements  call  for  only  one  set,  a  room  in  tho 
boarding  house  of  Mrs.  Hopkins,  while  an  opportunity  is  afforded  to 
introduce  any  number  of  extra  characters.  Musical  numbers  may  be 
ifttroduced,  if  desired.  Price,  30  Cents, 

Tempest  and  Sunshine 

A  comedy  drama  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Doran.  S  males  and  i 
females.     One  exterior  and  three  interior  scenes.    Plays  about  2  hours^ 

Every  school  girl  has  revelled  in  the  sweet  simplicity  and  gentle- 
ness of  the  characters  interwoven  in  the  charms  that  Mary  J.  Holmes 
commands  in  her  story  cf  "Tempest  and  Sunshine."  We  can  strongly 
recommend  this  play  as  one  of  the  best  plays  for  high  school  pro- 
duction published  in  recent  years.  Price,  30  Centa- 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 
SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  Cltj 

Hew  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  qn  Reaues 


The  Totich-Down 

A  comedy  in  four  acts,  by  Marion  Short.  8  males,  6  females,  btf\' 
kny  number  of  characters  can  be  introduced  in  the  ensembles.  Cos- 
:umes  modern.  One  interior  scene  throughout  the  play.  Time,  2}^ 
hours. 

Thij  play,  written  for  the  use  of  clever  amateurs,  is  the  story  of 
life  in  Siddell,  a  Pennsylvania  co-educational  college.  It  deals  with 
the  vici£?itudes  and  final  triumph  of  the  Siddell  Football  Eleven,  and 
the  humorous  and  dramatic  incidents  connected  therewith. 

"The  Touch-Down"  has  the  true  vaisity  atmosphere,  college  songs 
are  sung,  and  the  piece  is  lively  and  entertaining  throughout.  High 
schools  will  make  no  mistake  in  producing  this  play.  We  strongly 
recommend  it  as  a  high  class  and  well-written  comedy. 

Price,  30  Cents, 

Hurry,  Hurry,  Hurry 

A  comedy  in  three  acts,  by  LeRoy  Arnold.  5  males,  4  femalet- 
One  interior  scene.     Costumes  modern.     Plays  2%    hours. 

The  story  is  based  on  the  will  of  an  eccentric  aunt.  It  stipulate* 
that  her  pretty  niece  must  be  affianced  before  she  is  twenty-one,  and 
married  to  her  fiance  within  a  year,  if  she  is  to  get  her  spinstcl 
relative's  million.  Father  has  nice  notions  of  honor  and  fai!s  to  tell 
daughter  about  the  will,  so  that  she  may  make  her  ch'^ice  untram- 
meled  by  any  other  consideration  than  that  of  true  lovf..  The  action 
all  takes  place  in  the  evening  the  midnight  of  which  will  see  her 
reach  twenty-one.  Time  is  therefore  short,  and  it  is  Viurry,  hurry, 
hurry,  if  she  is  to  become  engaged  and  thus  save  her  father  fronl 
impending  bankruptcy. 

^  The  situations  are  intrinsically  funny  and  the  dialogj-ae  is  sprightly. 
The  characters  are  natural  and  unaffected  and  the  action  moves  with 
a  snap  such  as  should  be  expected  from  its  title.  Price,  30  Cents 

The  Varsity  Coach 

A  three-act  play  of  college  life,  by  Marion  Short,  specially  adaptec^ 
to  performance  by  amateurs  or  high  school  students.  S  males  ( 
females,  but  any  number  of  boys  and  girls  may  be  introduced  in  the 
tction  of  the  play.  Two  settings  necessary,  a  college  boy's  room  and 
\he  university  campus.     Time,  about  2  hours. 

Like  many  another  college  boy,  "Bob"  Selby,  an  all-round  popular 
college  man,  becomes  possessed  of  the  idea  that  athletic  prowess  is 
more  to  be  desired  than  scholarship.  He  is  surprised  in  the  midst  oi 
n  "spread"  in  his  room  in  Regatta  week  by  a  visit  from  his  aunf 
who  IS  putting  him  through  college.  Aunt  Serena,  "a  lady  of  the  old 
school  and  the  dearest  little  woman  in  the  whole  world  "'  has  hastened 
to  make  this  visit  to  her  adored  nephew  under  the  mistaken  impression 
♦hat  he  is  about  to  receive  the  Fellowes  prize  for  scholarship.  Her 
erief  and  chagrin  when  she  learns  that  instead  of  the  prize  Robert 
has  received  "a  pink  card,"  which  is  equivalent  to  suspension  for  poor 
scholarship,  gives  a  touch  of  pathos  to  an  otherwise  jolly  comedy  of 
college  life.  How  the  repentant  Robert  more  than  redeems  himself,, 
carries  off  honors  at  the  last,  and  in  the  end  wins  Ruth,  the  faithful 
little  sweetheart  of  the  "Prom"  and  the  classroom,  makes  a  .story  of 
dramatic  interest  and  brings  out  very  clearly  certain  phases  of  modern 
college  life.  There  are  several  opportunities  for  the  introduction  of 
college  songs  and  "stunts."  Price,  30  Cents. 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 
SVMUFX  VRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  rif 

^.fw  ard  Kypiiclt  DescriDtJve  Catalo^'ue  Wailed  Free  on  Reanr ' 


JUST  PUBLISHED 

Nothing  But  the  Trutli 

A  Farcical  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 

By 

James  Montgomery 

Cast  of  Characters 

Bob  Bennett 

B.  M.  Ralston 

Clarence  Van  Dusea 

Bishop  Doran 

Dick  Donnelly 

Gwen 

Mrs.  Ralston 

Ethel 

Mable 

Sable 

Martha 

SCENES 

ACT  1,    A  Broker's  Office 

ACT  2.     Parlor  of  a  Country  Home 

ACT  3. 

TIME:    The  Present 

"Nothing  But  the  Truth"  is  built  upon  the  simple  Ide* 
of  Its  hero  speaking  nothing  but  the  absolute  truth  for  a 
stated  period.  He  bets  a  friend  ten  thousand  dollars 
that  he  can  do  it,  and  boldly  tackles  truth  to  win  the 
money.  For  a  very  short  time  the  task  Is  placidly  easy, 
but  Truth  routs  out  old  man  Trouble  and  then  things  be- 
gin to  happen.  Trouble  doesn't  seem  very  large  and 
aggressive  when  he  first  pokes  his  nose  into  the  noble 
resolve  of  our  hero,  but  he  grows  rapidly  and  soon  wo 
■see  our  dealer  in  truth  disrupting  the  domestic  relations 
of  his  partner.  In  fact.  Trouble  works  overtime,  and 
reputations  that  have  been  unblemished  are  smirched. 
Situations  that  are  absurd  and  complications  almost 
knotted,  pile  up,  all  credited  to  Truth,  and  the  result  of 
the  wager  to  foster  and  cherish  that  great  virtue  from 
the  lips  of  the  man  who  has  espoused  the  cause  of  truth 
to  win  a  wager. 

It  is  a  novel  idea  and  so  well  has  it  been  worked  out 
that  an  audience  is  kept  in  throes  of  laughter  at  the 
seemingly  impossible  task  to  untangle  snarls  into  which 
our  hero  has  involved  all  those  he  comes  into  contact 
with.  It  is  a  clean  bright  farce  of  well  drawn  cbaractem 
and  was  built  for  laughing  purposes  only. 

William  Collier  played  "Nothing  But  the  Truth"  for  a 
year  at  the  Longacre  Theatre,  New  York,  and  it  has  been 
on  tour  for  over  two  seasons. 

After  three  years  continuous  success  on  the  profesa- 
ional  stage  we  are  now  offering  "Nothing  But  the  Truth" 
for  amateur  production.  It  is  one  of  the  funniest  and 
brightest  farces  ever  written,  and  it  is  admirably  suited 
»o  amateur  production. 

PaicE  6o  Cents 


JUST  PTJBLISHEP, ' 

CHRISTOPHER  JUNIOR 

A  Comedy  in  4  Acts.  By  Madeleine  Lucette  Ryley.  Modemeoi* 
tume.  Time,  2^  hours.  Three  interior  scenes;  8  males,  4  femaiea, 
Christopher  Jedbury,  Jr.,  having  accidentally  placed  himself  in  ao 
unfortunate  position  with  a  lady  in  the  West  Indies,  is  forced  to 
tnarry  her  without  seeing  her.  He  returns  to  England.  His  fathel 
finds  out  about  the  marriage,  quarrels  with  him,  and  turns  him  out* 
Jedbury,  Jr.,  goes  to  India  as  a  clerk  in  his  father's  office,  theie 
discovers  defalcations  by  the  manager,  and  falls  in  love  with  B)ora 
Hedway.  He  is  reconciled  to  his  father,  and  Dora  turns  out  to  b€ 
''IS  wife.     Highly  recommended  for  amateurs. 

Price,  60  Cents. 

MICE  AND  MEN 

A  Romantic  Comedy.  Four  Acts.  By  Madeleine  Lucette  Ryle3 
Costume  about  1786.  Time,  2  hours,  30  minutes.  Three  interioi, 
one  exterior  scene;  7  males,  5  females.  Mark  Embury,  a  man  of  oveff 
forty,  is  of  opinion  that  the  perfect  wife  must  be  educated  from  % 
state  of  ignorance  and  simplicity  to  the  ideal  of  the  man  she  is  about 
fco  marry.  He  accordingly  proceeds  to  impart  his  views  to  a  giri 
fresh  from  the  Foundling.  His  young  nephew  comes  on  the  scene, 
and  Embury  realizes  that  nature  intended  the  young  to  mate  with 
the  young.  This  beautiful  costume  comedy  can  be  played  by  all 
females,  and  is  highly  recommended  for  use  by  girls'  schools  and 
colleges.  This  play  was  originally  produced  by  Mr.  Charles  Froh* 
tiaaa  with  Miss  Annie  RusseU  in  the  leading  role. 

Price,  60  Cents. 

SNUG   LITTLE   KINGDOM 

A  Comedy  in  3  Acts.  By  Mark  Ambient.  Modern  costuma 
Time,  2i  hours.  One  interior  scene  throughout;  3  males,  4  females, 
Bernard  Gray,  a  composer  of  music,  lives  in  a  garret  in  Soho.  Undei 
his  charge  is  a  young  girl  in  the  ballet,  whose  mother  had  died  when 
she  was  young.  Hubert  Gray,  the  brother  of  Bernard,  rescues  a 
wealthy  old  gentleman  from  an  accident,  the  latter  eventijally  turw 
ins.  out  to  be  the  ^]'s  father. 

Price.  60  CenU. 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANCfiUBS 


THE  REJUVENATION  OF  AUNT  MARY. 

The  famous  comedy  in  three  acts,  by  Amie  Warner.  7  males,  6 
nales.    Three    interior    scenes.    Costumes    modem.    Plays    2%    hours. 

This  is  a  genuinely  funny  comedy  with  splendid  parts  for  "Aunt  Mary," 
ck,"  her  lively  nephew;  "Lucinda,"  a  New  England  ancient  maid  of  all  work; 
ck's"  three  chums;  the  Girl  "Jack"  loves;  "Joshua,"  Aunt  Mary's  hired 
a,  etc. 

"Aunt  Mary"  was  played  by  May  Robson  in  New  York  and  on  tour  for  over 
»  years,  and  it  is  sure  to  be  a  big  success  wherever  produced.  We  strongly 
ommend  it.  Price,  60  Cents 

MRS.  BUMSTEAD-LEIGH. 

A  pleasing  comedy,  in  three  acts,  by  Harry  James  Smith,  author  of 
he  Tailor-Made  Man."  6  males,  6  females.  One  interior  scene.  Cos- 
nes  modern.     Plays  2%  hours. 

Mr.  Smith  chose  foi"  his  initial  comedy  the  complications  arising  from  the 
leavers  of  a  social  climber  to  land  herself  in  the  altitude  peopled  by  hyphenated 
ties— a   theme  permitting  innumerable   complications,   according  to  the   spirit  of 

writer. 
This    most   successful   comedy  was   toured  for  several   seasons  by  Mrs.   Fiske 
h  enormous  success.  Price,  60  Centa. 

MRS.  TEMPLE'S  TELEGRAM. 

A  most  successful  farce  in  three  acts,  by  Frank  Wyatt  and  William 
)rris.  5  males,  4  females.  One  interior  scene  stands  throughout  the 
ee  acts.     Costumes  modern.     Plays  2J4  hours. 

"Mrs.  Temple's  Telegram"  is  a  sprightly  farce  in  which  there  is  an  abund- 
;e  of  fun  without  any  taint  of  impropriety  or  any  element  of  offence.  As 
iced  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "Oh,  what  a  tangled  web  we  weave  when  first  we 
ctice  to  deceive!" 

There  is  not  a  dull  moment  in  the  entire  farce,  and  from  the  time  the  curtain' 
ss  until  it  makes  the  final  drop  the  fun  is  fast  and  furious.  A  very  exceptional 
:;e.  Price,  60  Centsw 

THE  NEW  CO-ED. 

A  comedy  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Doran,  author  of  "Tempest  and 
nshine,"  etc.  Characters,  4  males,  7  females,  though  any  number  of 
YS  and  girls  can  be  introduced  in  the  action  of  the  play.  One  interior 
i  one  exterior  scene,  but  can  be  easily  played  in  one  interior  scene, 
stumes  modern.     Time,  about  2  hours. 

The  theme  of  this  play  is  the  coming  of  a  new  student  to  the  college,  her 
eption   by   the   scholars,  her   trials   and   final   triumph. 

There   are   three    especially    good    girls'   parts,    Letty,    Madge   and    Estelle,    but 
others  have  plenty   to  do.    "Punch"   Doolittle  and  George  Washington  Watt.^, 
gentleman    of    color,    are    two    particularly    good    comedy    characters.      We    can 
ongly    recommend   "The   New   Co-Ed"    to   high    schools   and   amateurs. 

Price,  30  Cents, 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 
SAMUEL  FPENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  (  ity 

New  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  on  Request 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


irm  L!)-50m-4,'61(B8994s4)444 

:ters. 

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(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When   Produced) 


SAMUEL  FRENCH.  25  West  45th  Street.  New  York  CItr 

Wcw  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Cataio|:uc  Mailed  Free  on  R 

*^  LOS  ANGELES 


Lithomount 
I         Pamphlet 
I  Binder 

'  Gaylord  Bros.,  Inc. 

!  Makers 

i  Stockton,  Calil. 

^  pjT   UN.  21,1908 


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